Anna Begins
by Freida Right
Summary: FFIV. The tale of willful Anna Faraxhae's life, and her struggle to live her own life and make her own choices-even if it goes against the wishes of Tellah, her equally willful father. Crosses over with Faraxhae Family Circus and sequel.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue…

My friend assures me its all or nothing  
I am not worried- I am not overly concerned  
My friend implores me for one time only,  
Make an exception. I am not not worried  
Wrap her up in a package of lies  
Send her off to a coconut island  
I am not worried - I am not overly concerned  
With the status of my emotions  
Oh, she says, were changing.  
But were always changing  
It does not bother me to say this isnt love  
Because if you dont want to talk about it then it isnt love  
And I guess Im going to have to live that  
But, Im sure theres something in a shade of gray  
Or something in between  
And I can always change my name if thats what you mean  
My friend assures me its all or nothing`  
But I am not really worried  
I am not overly concerned  
You try to tell your self the things you try tell your self to make  
Yourself forget  
To make your self forget  
I am not worried  
If its love she said, then were gonna have to think about the  
Consequences  
She cant stop shaking and I can t stop touching her and.....  
This time when kindness falls like rain  
It washes her away and anna begins to change her mind  
These seconds when Im shaking leave me shuddering  
For days she says.  
And Im not ready for this sort of thing  
But Im not gonna break  
And Im not going to worry about it anymore  
Im not gonna bend. and Im not gonna break and  
Im not gonna worry about it anymore  
It seems like I should say as long as this is love...  
But its not all that easy so maybe I should just  
Snap her up in a butterfly net-  
Pin her down on a photograph album  
I am not worried  
Ive done this sort of thing before  
But then I start to think about the consequences  
Because I dont get no sleep in a quiet room and...  
The time when kindness falls like rain  
It washes me away and anna begins change my mind  
And every time she sneezes I believe its love  
And oh lord.... Im not ready for this sort of thing  
She s talking in her sleep-it s keeping me awake  
And anna begins to toss and turn  
And every word is nonsense but I understand it and  
Oh lord. I m not ready for this sort of thing  
Her kindness bangs a gong  
Its moving me along and anna begins to fade away  
It s chasing me away. she dissappears, and oh lord Im not ready for this sort of thing

Hello. My name is Anna Faraxhae. I'm betting that you don't know very much about me; I get overshadowed a lot, mostly by my father's mad quest for revenge. Would you like to hear about me? It's an on-going tale of loss, rebeliousness and disobedience, I'll warn you. If you're going to fall asleep half-way through, please don't waste my time. (I have as much patience as my father.) But if you're really interested, I'd be happy to tell you.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

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Let me begin by telling you a little bit about myself. Once again, my name is Anna Faraxhae, and I was killed a few years ago. I'm an almost perfect mix of both my parents: I'm of a medium hight, with my father's brown hair and my mother's blue eyes. I'm a red mage, like my father, a gesture from long ago to try and gain his approval—somehting was hard to come by in the earlier years of my life, mainly due to my twin brother.

What's this? I had a twin brother? Why certainly! It's an old family trait that can be traced back through the ages. My father is an older twin, and I have little cousins somewhere who are also twins. Most likely, their children will also be twins, but that is neither here or there.

My twin's name was Edward, which explains a lot about what happenes later. He was older than me by about 10 minutes, and my father instantly bonded with him. It was probably due in part to the fact that Edward was my father's first born son, which was special, indeed, but it probably had more to do with his eyes. As soon as Edward was born and they saw his violet eyes, everyone knew that he was special. My father's eyes are the same vibrant purple, and it's a sign of greatness. Violet is a rare eye color in any part of the world, but for Mysidians like my parents it was sacred, especially to our family.

So it was sort of natural that I got somehwat overshadowed by my twin, though by no means did it justify anything.

Let me tell about Edward now. His hair was bright copper, like our mothers, and it looked even brighter in contrast to his violet eyes. Deep down inside, he has a wild and firey personality to match, though it was greatly subdued by his physical limitations. Of the two of us, Edward had the weaker constitution. Not that he was always getting sick or always getting hurt, but he had terrible allergies to common things. Milk, wheat, dust, pollen, cats and dogs, even pinapple juice could make him terribly sick, to the point where he could die.

Whatever Edward lacked in physical strength I made up for. I had always been more athletic, and he more reserved. While I was bent on improving my strength by running races and learning to defend myself with a small knife and a tall staff of fire-hardened wood, Edward was content to sit under a tree and study his magic tomes.

This didn't nesessarily mean that I wasn't as smart as him. I was very smart. We both studied as red mages—in both white and black magic. But Edward seemed to excel in white magic and I in black. And even though I worked very hard to imporve my white magic and measure up to my brother, father didn't seem to notice much. Our mother was the one who noticed my efforts and took time to help me. She always assured me that Edward was no more important than I, or that I was more important than him, and that our father loved us both. But sometimes it was difficult to see that.

Strangely, I never envied my brother. We two were very different, but together it was like we formed one complete person. "The perfect red mage", so our mother called us. And even though we were different and fought with each other a lot, we were the dearest of friends. If we were ever separated, I didn't know what I would do. I don't recal ever really being jealous of Edward being showered with father's attention, only peeved and a bit hurt by his ignorance.

And then there came a terrible year for the small oasis town of Kaipo, the town that my family called home. A bunch of travelers stagered into the city late one ight, exhausted from days and nights of travel through the wayerway, a day's travel across the desert. All of them were very sick with a nasty viral infetion that was never properly identified in the chaos to come. Whatever it was, it rendered all of them dead within a few days and they were all buried unceremoniously in the cemetary outside of town.

That was supposed to be the end of it, but it wasn't. The undertaker, the medics and nurses who had helped them, and the innkeep who had housed them all contacted the virus and we realized what it meant: the virus was contagious and deadly. Luckily, the medics and nurses were all white mages and recovered within several days. The innkeep and udnertaker weren't so lucky and soon founf themselves joining the travelers.

It was an epidemic, and one that seemed inescapable. We all shut ourselves in our houses, rarely brave enough to go out. A few healthy people venured away from Kaipo and headed west, toward the equally remote yet cited town called Mist for help, since the people there were supposeldy mages with great power.

But voluntaily quarantining ourslves didn't seem to help completely, because several adults contracted it anyway. Many young children caught it as well, and Edward and I were no exception.

It was a terirble illness, not unlike the flu. It included a high fever and a chill, unspeakable nausea which made you want to throw up just by _thinking_ about food, and a bad hacking cough. I distntly remember my whole respiratory system being so congested with phlegm at times that it became difficult to breath, and it was laced with the coppery taste of blood. I was so uncomfortable that sleep was pretty much impossible, even with the help of sleeping pills and my father's Sleepra spell. _Sleepra_. It was _that_ uncomfortable.

However, being the better white mage, Edward was recovering and father couldn't have been more excited. I needed the help of medications and strong healing spells being rained down on me, but not Edward.

Even though I was only half consious for most of it, I remember all of that distinctly, and I also recal wanting to throw up without the help of the nausea that had kept me form eating for a week and a half.

Of course, Edward wasn't doing it all by himself and he was still very weak. He just happened to be doing better than me because of his magic preference. I, on the other hand, seemed to be getting progressivley worse. I was dying of malnutrition and illness. The medic who came to see me said that, as an estimate, I had roughly a day and a half left to live.

Finally, father began to panic over me.

Edward, on the other hand, withdrew to my bedside. The whole time he held my hand with his right left hand and ravenously skimmed his white magic textbook with his right hand. After many hours of searching, he apparently found what he had been looking for and set to memorizing it. From the time it took him to do so, it was a big spell.

After a long time, he closed his book and stood up, carefully setting his book down on his chair. He stretched his arms, cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath.

"This is a really big spell," he informed me. "It's not very good yet, but I think I can make it work. If it were perfect, I could be a whole doctor."

I was too weak to talk now, but I could understand him a little through the haze of my fatigue. I wanted to ask him what he was talking about, but I couldn't.

Edward stood solid beside my bed, chanting away at a long new spell. Mother walked in just in time to see Edward cast his big new spell.

"CURAGA!"

A bright shimering light came raining down over my head like snow and suddenly the fog that had covered my eyes lifted. Clarity returned, and I could see, hear, understand. I attempted to sit up, but collapsed. Mother sounded worried as she called fathe into the room.

"What was that?" I asked weakly, glad that my voice had returned.

"Somehting that I learned to cure you," Edward answered. He had dropped to his knees, his face burried in my matress and his hands clinging to the sheets so he wouldn't melt to the floor. Hishands were white and cold, and he suddenly looked worse than I had before.

Father appeared, looking as worried as mother and demanded to know what was going on. Mother explained that Edward had just learned the Curaga spell while they hadn't been watching and that he was using it to cure me. Father's eyes went wide behind his glasses and protested that the medic had also used Curaga on me and it hadn't worked. And while it may have worked now, Edward looked terrible.

But while mother explained and father protested, Edward had begun chanting again. They were still trying to figure it all out when Edward finished his second round.

"CURAGA…!"

Again, a shower of blue-ish snow fell on my head and now I could sit up straight. Mother and father were both horrified and ran across the room to where Edward had finally fainted. At last it dawned on me why Edward was suddenly so weak: the powerful magic was draining him of his strength. It was killing him.

"Is she better now?" Edward asked weakly. Our parents tried to console him, yes, yes, I was fine, I would certainly live, he could stop now.

"Ah… That's good…" he agreed, a satisfied smile creeping over his face. His skin was so pale, his hair looked like real burning fire and his eyes were like real jems set in pure smooth ivory.

Something suddenly wrapped around my heart and _squeezed_ lke a boa contrictor and a mouse. Even though the fever had finally broken, the nausea had been replaced with a sudden and deep hunger, and I felt strong enough to jump out of bed, consiousness slipped away once more and I fainted, fully asleep for the first time in days.

I awoke three days later to a home shrouded in dak colors and strangely cold. Inside my chest, my heart beat painfully, as if it had been bruised by a stone.

And of course, I found that Edward—my beloved brother who had used his meager strength to save me—was dead.

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Author's Notes…

Okay, you're all probably wondering what I was thinking when I came up with this concept and why I'm not working on FFC right now. Well, I'm suffering from writer's block (again, ug!) and I thought I might do something breif that ties in with FFC later. Plus, I was suddenly inspired in the car while the song Anna Begins was playing on my iPod.

So there you are.

Also, my computer crashed recently and we had to re-download MS Office. For some reason, the spell check isn't working now, so there might be a few spelling issues that normally would have been caught but werne't. I'm not stupid, the computer is.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

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I've only seen my father, Tellah, cry twice in my life: the first time was for Edward, and the only other time was for my mother when she too passed away. (Whether or not he cried over me when I died, many years later, I cannot say; I was already dead and unable to see.)

However, he cried the hardest for my brother. But it wasn't _for_ him or anything he had done in life. Edward was gone, and we would all miss him. Personally, I felt sure that I was going to die myself without my twin. But father's tears had nothing to do with anything Edward had done: it was for what he had done himself.

My father told me a few years later that Edward's death made him realize something that he should never have had to realize. For those seven years, he had a smart, sweet, beautiful, and painfully neglected daughter. A daughter that had been pushed unduely into a corner and largely ignored by a father who should have spent more time caring for her, teaching her, and loving her.

In short, my father was ashamed of himself. He had forgotten about me, and it took losing Edward—who died saving my life—for him to remember that I was there. It nearly destroyed him. He never forgave himself for what he had done to me, and he never realized that I had forgiven him; whether he wasn't able to wrap his head around it or if he stubornly refused to believe it, I still can't say.

Either way, my father was never the same again in many ways. For a long time, he was trapped in a stormy depression that robbed him first of his hair color and hs sight, and more progressivley of his brain. Before Edward died, my father's hair was the same color as mine, a light and youthful brunette, and he wore a pair of glasses to counter his near-sightedness. (Another unfortunate trait that also runs in the male side of the family. I fear that my little cousin Palom's sight will soon begin to fade as well.)

These two changes happened suddenly, over the course of the next couple of years. They became more and more obvious as the seasons continued to turn. However, since he continued to hold onto his grief and shame, he was slowly losing his mind to it. He became bitter, moody, and he clung to my mother and I greedily, as if we too would die at any moment.

But my family wasn't the only one affected by the terrible virus: all of Kaipo had been crippled by it, a third of our already tiny population gone. A few days after Edward's funeral, the troup who had lft for Mist returned with an enterouge of white mages and their strange magic. The Summoners were highly secretive; they spoke to few in the two days they were there, and they worked their clensing magic by night. The town was put under curfew, everyone required to be indoors while the Summoners and their powerful Eidolons worked.

Of course, daddy insisted in being there and came home furious when the Summoners told him no; tradition kept outsiders from observing.

"It's not fair!" he bellowed, kicking the wall. I had run into my room and stood listening, my ear pressed against the door, but still terrified of my father's rage. "IF they had come a few days earlier, my son would still be alive! They have no right—"

"Tellah, calm down!"

That was my mother, Samantha, the one person who could ever control my father and his temper.

"It's their ritual, their special magic, their thing; they don't have to share with anyone if they don't want to. Great mage though you be, you have no right right to force your way into their business. And besides, you're not the only one who has lost a child to the virus. Widow Morris, who lives next door, her daughter died just this morning. If only the Summoners had come a few hours earlier, Tatiana Morris would still be alive as well. Think how _they_ feel!"

At last, humbled, my father calmed down. Staggared—Tatiana being a friend of mine—I stumbled into bed, feeling sick and alone with my brother and friend dead of the virus and my parents upset outside.

I hadn't managed to see any Summoners until the hour that they left. Completely recovered, I ran all the way to the town wall where the mysterious people were gathering to go back home.

They were strangely stunning; none of them seemed to have an outshining beauty of face about them. But they were all majestic and elegant, the sort of people that I admired and hoped to be one day when I too was a great sage. The thing that truly held one captive was that their hair was unlike anyone else's. No plain blondes, brunettes, reds and black among this crowd: lavender purple, stormy blue, snowy white on lithe, youthful women, and one—who seemed to be the leader—who's hair was mettalic silver.

A couple close to me was wraped up in a conversation while the group gathered to leave.

"Tazé, the dragon worked wonders for these people," said the man, brushing his shaggy emerald-colored hair from his eyes.

"I know," lemon-haired Tazé agreed, and then sighed despairingly. "So many children… I feel so bad for these people. I wish there was more that we could do."

"You have such a good heart, Taz. I wish there was more we could do too. And this is such a nice little place; I wuldn't mind settling down here for a while."

Tazé tilted her head to one side quizzically. "'Settle down'? What do you mean, Aldir? I thought you wanted to stay in Mist."

"I do," Aldir agreed. "I was just thinking to myself. I just don't think it's right to keep our own children cloistered in a remote little place like Mist, when there's so much more to see."

"I don't know if I want to have children anymore," Tazé admited with another sigh. "Not after all the horrible things I've seen here. But it does mean so much to us both… Oh, listen to me; we're not even married yet!" Embarassed, she began to fidle with a diamond engagement band on her left ring-finger.

Aldir took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Things will be better soon, love. This has been terrible for so many people, and they'll never forget what has happened, but people such as these won't sucome to despair. They'll be okay."

And then the silver-haired leader gave a quick command and the Summoners all began to move out. Just as they were moving away, Tazé looked up lovingly at Aldir and smiled.

"What do you think of the name Rydia for a little girl?" she asked.

Something about the two of them stuck with me for years. Aldir's words of hope inspired me, and Tazé's trust in him moved me. It was a drastically different relationship from what I knew in my own parents, and somehow it filled me with hope.

I would encounter a daughter of theirs, very briefly, many years later. But that's getting ahead of myself.

Very slowly, things began to return to normal in Kaipo, though it had a hollow sort of feeling to it. So many people had been lost, from school children to important community leaders. Aldir was right, we would manage to recover; but it was going to take a very long time.

One happy change that occurred was in my studies. Daddy had finally taken an interested in what I was doing, and avidly began teaching me. Even then, through my utter joy at his notice, it was obvious that he was trying to make up for lost time. I didn't want him to waste his time feeling like it was something he was obligated to do; it was enough tht he cared now. But what if he took it to mean that I didn't care that he was _so_ interested now and forgot me again?

Remember, now, I was only seven.

So I kept quiet about it. Over the next several years, my father and I forged a deep and personal bond that lasted for the rest of both our lives, even beyond my death.

But by no means was it untestable.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

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There's a saying in Kaipo that goes, "the mortal wound is nothing compared to the pain that peeves." Basically, an irritating pain—such as a splinter in the palm of the hand that you write with, that's _so_ small that you can't see it—is worse than a death blow. That splinter won't kill you, at least not quickly. It renders the hand that you need totally useless, and it annoys you so that you think you will go crazy.

Growing up was a little bit like that, slow and painful, but not bad enough to cause death. You're ready to grow up and get on with your life, but all the new responsibilities don't seem worth it at first. Especially when you're a gifted mage. More than ever, I wished that I had my brother with me. Had Edward still been alive, the awkwardness and alienation I often felt would have been easier to bear. Old friends started drifting away, new ones drifting in and out on a whim, as if their fancies were controlled by the rolling of the sea and the phases of the moon. Nothing stayed the same for very long, but the love of a twin brother would have remained constant, no matter what.

Of course, my parents still loved me, but it didn't seem like they really understood no matter how many times they said that they did. Mama at least tried to understand and help, but Daddy always seemed like he couldn't be bothered. For all that he was still genuinely sorry for neglecting me and trying desperately to make up for it, the things I began caring about made no sense to him. After a while, I think he simply gave up trying to understand and just began plowing through, anxiously awaiting the day that the turbulence would subside.

One other thing that remained thankfully constant was my studies. I was already studying the –Ja series when I turned 14, and I loved every minute of it. It often left me open to ridicule and name-calling, but it meant little to me. Even then, so fragile, I was far too stubborn and proud to care what others thought of me. What I thought of them was far more important, and I thought they were all classless bullies to be endured eventually by unsuspecting spouses.

The majority of these bullies were girls, and a few boys who were far too cool to be neutral toward me; they were either with me and snubbed or with the bully-girls and adored, flirted with and courted. The choice was pretty obvious, and I still didn't care. I was far happier to not be bothered by them and left to my studies.

But not all the boys agreed. Most of them thought I was pretty neat. As a tomboyish little girl many of my friends had been boys; for the longest time they had been my best friends. Now, at 14, they suddenly didn't seem to want to touch me. Something changed, and none of us could describe it, but it happened. Suddenly, it was no longer okay for me to hang around with a bunch of boys. Half of them became sort of shy around me, afraid to speak to me or touch me. I couldn't understand it for a long time.

And then one of my closest friends asked if I would let him court me, and I realized what was going on. Mama was sympathetic about the whole thing, but Daddy seemed to find it a mix of uproariously amusing and totally outrageous.

"I knew this would happen eventually," Daddy said, somewhere between laughing out loud and screaming in anger. "I just knew it!"

"Tellah, please calm down," Mama pleaded, but to little avail.

"Next thing you know, they'll be tearing the door down, asking for Anna's hand," he continued. "I mean, they're all fools if they don't; but if they do, they'll wish they hadn't."

"Like you're one to talk, dear."

"That's not the point."

"Tellah, drink some water and sit down for a minute. You'll have a heart attack."

At this point, Daddy did as she said. As free-spirited as Daddy was, Mama had a sort of power over him. She was the only person that he always listened to or obeyed. She was the only person who knew how to control him; and control him she usually had to for everyone's safety and peace. I wished that I could hold the same kind of sway over someone else, and hoped that one day I could be just as effective a wife and mother as she.

But practically speaking, at that moment in time, I wasn't interested in boys and was a little scared about Daddy's predictions. Not everyone was as wild about me as my former friends, but it all made me suspicious of everyone. In the months that followed, I found that most of the boys I encountered were simply decent people who held doors for me, helped me if I was carrying something heavy, or picked up my pencil if I happened to drop it. But still, I started to suspect something of every nice boy who spoke to me. Too polite to ask them what their intentions were and too obedient to question my father, I usually had nothing to say but "Thank you" and "Yes, Daddy."

When I turned 15, I met a strange new person. He had suddenly appeared, standing on the sidewalk, his nose buried in a faded old map, politely begging anyone who passed by for directions.

Even at a distance, there was something about him that I instantly liked. He was dressed in normal clothes, nondescript aside from all the bright colors. Everything about him was bright, from his stripped shirt to his gleaming gold hair and shining blue eyes, down to his charming yet slightly high-pitched voice. Even his lips were painted bright green, and I realized that he looked like he felt ridiculous. Everyone who passed him gave him a queer look or a laugh, but no directions so far.

I felt pretty bad for him, standing on the corner, dressed like a clown, begging for directions and being laughed at instead. Every wall of suspicion I had trained up over the years came down and I walked boldly down the sidewalk to him.

"Are you lost?" I asked. He turned to face me, slightly surprised; his first friendly greeting all day, perhaps.

"A-A little," he admitted with a stutter. "I'm with some people and I've gotten lost…"

"I didn't know that anyone was coming to town."

"We're passing through," he answered. "We're actually on our way to Baron."

"Need some help? I know this town like the back of my hand," I offered.

"That would be great," he agreed. "I just need to get to the inn."

"Follow me," I directed, leading the way. "By the way, my name is Anna. What's yours?"

"I'm Gilbert. Pleased to meet you," he answered, shaking my hand. "Thanks a lot."

I've had a lot of time to think on it, and my conclusion is always the same. If I had known what would happen in the years to come and just how deeply I would be involved because of "Gilbert", would I have walked away and left him to fend for himself? I've thought of all the possible consequences and still say the same: I would go through it all again—a million times, even—and it would be worth it every time. We needed each other. Daddy never did realize it while he was alive, but he needed the boy as well; only for something totally different.

I led Gilbert to the inn, where I figured I would leave him to find his friends. I was loathe to go, however; in our short walk, we had become friends. And he was leaving in the morning; I didn't want to miss any more of him than I had to.

"You should stay and meet everyone," he suggested. "They'd love you."

That was a great idea. I didn't have anywhere important to be—just a major test to be studying for, that's all, I reasoned—so we stayed at the inn for another half an hour talking.

"So, where are you from?" I asked.

"Our troupe has members from all around the world," Gilbert said proudly. "But I'm from Damcyan, just to the north."

"How did you get through the waterway?" I asked, suddenly nervous of the long-ago virus that had stolen my brother.

"We didn't go by the waterway. We came by hovercraft, over the shoals. It's not the fastest, but it beats the waterway. I've heard it's scary."

"You have no idea," I agreed.

"It's no place for a bunch of bards. There aren't any monsters out in the shoals either. So, what do you do?"

"I'm a red mage," I answered. "My parents are Mysidians."

"That's a long way to travel. What brought them all the way here?"

"Who knows? They won't tell me. Can I ask you something personal?"

"Sure."

"Why are you wearing green lipstick?"

Gilbert smiled and laughed, apparently used to such questions. "It's part of the costume, you might say. I think it looks ridiculous, but the master says that if you can get over feeling ridiculous dressed up like a clown then you can do just about anything. I have to wonder if this was what he actually meant though…"

"You know something, I'd love for you to meet my parents; I think they'd like you a lot," I suggested.

"Really?"

"Well, Mama would anyway. Daddy's suspicious of every boy that he catches talking to me. Still… I wish that you could stay longer; I've had more fun this past hour alone than I've had in weeks."

"Really? Don't you have friends?" Gilbert asked sounding a little concerned.

"Not really," I admitted. "Most people think I'm a nerd and they don't like me."

"That's terrible!"

"It's not that bad; I don't really like any of them either. I'm happier on my own where I can just do my own thing in peace."

"Doesn't it get lonely?"

Gilbert's question sparked painful memories of Edward and I when we were small, and one or two of Tatiana, one of my only real friends who was also lost to the virus. It did get lonely a lot without a brother or any good friends; most of the time I really was happy and fine, but when the loneliness settled in it suddenly became unbearable.

"Sometimes, it does get lonely," I admitted slowly. "It's not every day that I meet someone genuinely interesting and fun to talk to. I'm going to miss you."

"We're only going as far as Baron and then turning around and coming back," Gilbert explained. "We'll probably stop here on the return trip; maybe we'll stay longer next time."

"I hope so," I agreed.

"In the meantime, would you like to hear a song?" he asked.

"I'd love to!"

Gilbert's blue eyes lit up, exited for the chance to show off a little, and pulled a lyre from his backpack on the floor.

"Give me one second…" he requested, turning all his attention to tuning the fine instrument. As he concentrated on the strings and their tautness he made a series of wired expressions and I started to laugh.

"What? What's so funny?" he asked, startled from his reverie by my laughter.

"You're making really weird faces," I explained, choking down giggles. "I do that too, when I'm studying spells; people move as far away from me as possible when I'm studying 'cause it creeps them out."

"And I thought I was alone," Gilbert added with a laugh of his own. At last he was satisfied with the strings and poised his hands to play. "This is a calling-song," he explained. "You can't tell if you're nearby, but people can hear this tune for miles in every direction. The rest of the troupe—wherever they are—should come running when they hear this."

I was amazed. I thought that powers like this were limited to magic. "How do you do that without magic?" I asked.

"It's old bard-magic," he answered. "I'm still learning it all; this one's pretty simple, though. It's actually one of the few songs I can play well… I hope you like it."

He began playing the lyre so that the entire inn was filled with the soft and comforting song. I almost couldn't believe Gilbert's last statement about not playing very well; he played so precisely and cleanly with the ease of a master musician. For the tune's simplicity, it must have been one of his favorites; he played it with such care and understanding, as if the notes were life-long friends of his.

And I could see why. It was an entrancing tune, happy and sad at the same time somehow. It reminded me of stars—the stars on a clear night reflected in the lake. And it reminded me of something else that I couldn't put words to, like my mind wanted desperately to remember but couldn't.

Almost too soon, the song ended and it sort of made me want to cry; I wished it could have lasted forever. It was met with applause and cheering from everyone who had been listening, all directed at Gilbert, who looked a little surprised and overwhelmed with the attention.

"Play something else, bard!" someone shouted from across the room. As people shouted agreements, Gilbert squirmed uncomfortably.

"That was the only song I can really play…" He mumbled to me.

I was getting ready to cast a small Fire spell so that we could surreptitiously get away from the crowd when the door flew open and several people walked in. Though they all looked very different—each from some different far-off land—they all wore the same bright colors as Gilbert, and some even carried small instruments in hand. It was the rest of his troupe, come to answer the calling-song.

"Ah! There you are!" exclaimed the leader, swiftly walking over and tousling Gilbert's hair. "We thought we'd lost you forever! If anything had happened to you, your father would kill us all!"

The leader, who, judging by his accent, also hailed from Damcyan, didn't seem angry, only worried about the youngest member of his band.

"I'm alright, really," Gilbert insisted. "My new friend helped me out," he added, pointing at me." I waved back shyly, feeling sheepish from appreciation.

"My sincere thanks to you, miss, for taking care of my charge," the leader said to me with a sauve bow. "I really don't know what we would have done if anything had happened to him. May I ask your name?"

"I'm Anna Faraxhae," I answered.

"Oh, I believe I met your father earlier today. Tellah?"

"Yes, that's him. I hope that he wasn't too much trouble," I apologized, hoping that he hadn't done anything foolish or rude.

"Not really; I had asked him if he had seen Gilbert anywhere earlier today. He answered no, but added that there would be hell to pay if Gilbert was trying to court you behind his back. I see that you've already beaten him, though. Best not mention this to your father."

"I think Daddy would like Gilbert," I protested. "I wish that you were in town longer."

"Perhaps on the return trip we will have more notice; we will try to put on a show for everyone next time," the leader suggested.

After hanging around the inn for another hour meeting the rest of the troupe, it was definitely time to go home. It was getting late, and I still needed to figure out how I would explain my lateness home from school to my parents.

"We'll see you in a few weeks," Gilbert assured me as I left. "You'll know when," he added with a wink.

"I'll listen for the song every night," I promised.

As I walked away back to my house, I felt very accomplished. I had made a whole slew of friends, and that meant a lot to me. Whetehr or not my father would like it or not was largely irelevant. I had friends, darn it, and nothing could change that now.

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Author's Notes…

Yeah, I'm sure that we all know who "Glibert" really is and what song he was playing… ;)

Haha, I got a job. But only on Thursdays and Saturdays, so I guess we're good, eh?


	5. Chapter 5

From now on, it's going to start looking a little longer; it's only because now we've got conversations instead of just detailed descriptions. (She's getting older and remembers more clearly, so she remembers more dialogue, get it? But it's no longer than before.)

Chapter 4

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I kept an ear out at all times of the day for weeks and weeks for some far-off harp song, but it didn't come for a long time. I almost forgot what it was I was listening for as the end of spring came and the hot desert smmer blew in. School was now out for the summer, but I continued to study anyway.

It was August, and I had almost forgotten what I was listening for. Then one day, as I sat under a tree reading, I heard it. That enchanting silvery melody from the inn came floting over the town wall on the wind, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I ran out of the yard and headed for the gate.

To my amusement , no one else seemed to notice the music. It was, indeed, Gilbert's calling-song; and it was calling me.

The troupe was already on the outskirts of town when I arrived. They all seemed surprised yet happy to see me—except for Gilbert, sitting nonchalantly on top of their caravan wagon and still playing merrily on his lyre, who knew exactly why I had come.

"You took your sweet time," he teased. Once again he was wearing his costume green lipstick, ever a clown, and it made me laugh.

Maestro Roland was immensely pleased to see me again, and was very pleased to announce that they would be staying for the week in Kaipo, hopefully putting on a show toward the weeknd.

"We hope that you and your family will be there," he said.

"Naturally," I agreed. "Perhaps we'll be by later today?"

"It would be a pleasure."

Sure enough, Mama, Daddy and I went to the inn to visit the troupe that afternoon. Mama was excited, but Daddy was, as always, suspicious.

"It's not like you to go making friends with out-of-town weirdos," he scolded.

"They're nice people," I insisted, unbufetted by his critisism.

"I think it's good of you to meet people like these," Mama intervened. "Gypsies aren't always the most trustworthy of people, but there's no end to what you can learn from them."

"I know," I agreed excitedly. "They come from all over the world. Maestro Roland and his protégé, Gilbert, they both come from Damcyan—"

"The waterway?" Daddy interupted nervously.

"Oh, they come over the shoals, not through the waterway," I explained.

"Ah…"

It didn't sound like he totally understood, but then he usually didn't try to.

"Go on dear, we're listening," Mama asked, fully fascinated.

"Anyways," I continued, "their two flautists, Chi and Yin, they came all the way from Fabul—they're twin sisters."

Daddy made an uncomfortable noise, and I pretended not to notice. When I realized that Chi and Yin were twins, I felt my heart and soul lurch as well.

"There's also a girl about my age from Eblan named Shika, and she's a dancer; she's also learning how to play drums. Metis plays a tamborine and a bunch of other percusion instruments, and she's from Baron. Andrea plays the lute, and he's actually all the way from Troia."

"No one from Mysidia?" Daddy inquired.

"Maestro Roland says that they frequently travel to Mysidia, and the people are big fans, but they generally prefer to stick to their books. They've tried to recruit there, but no one's really interested," I explained.

"And what does your friend Gilbert play?" Mama asked. "I don't know if you ever mentioned it."

Mama was right about that. The calling-song was a sort of secret of ours, obvious only to the other members of the troupe. So I had never mentioned anything that might lead to questioning.

"He plays a lyre. But he's upgraded to a harp since we met," I said cheerily, proud of my friend's accomplishment.

"That's a big and complicated instrument," Daddy noted, sounding almost impressed.

"It's a small one, just big enough to fit in his backpack. The way he can play… It's like the strings are an extention of himself. It's like us, with our magic, almost."

Daddy eyed me suspciously. It made me sort of sad—his glases were getting thicker with every year that passed. Ever the drama queen, he had begun tinting his glasses purple. As the years progressed and the lenses got thicker and thicker, the tinting became darker and darker, to match his mood. When I was dying in his arms, I had tried my best to look through the dark tinting into his eyes; but it turned out to be a fail for the ages. What a way to die, huh?

Luckily, Gilbert had the sense to take off his riduculous green lipstick and change into less bright clothes before we arrived. He looked normal, and it was a little strange, but I liked it. We found him in the main room, waiting patiently and lovingly tuning his new harp. When he looked up and saw us, he jumped up, harp still in hand, and ran to meet us. He actually caught me in a friendly hug; I could feel Daddy burning up, and it made things even more fun.

"I've missed you," he informed.

"It's only been a few hours," I pointed out. "I brought my parents to meet everyone," I added, dragging him over to them. Mama was smoothing down her hair, genteel and perfect as always, and Daddy was fuming, his arms crossed and a pout painted across his aging faces.

"You must be Gilbert," Mama said aimiably, shaking his hand warmly. "It's such a pleasure to meet you. Anna's told us so much about you."

"She said you wore green lipstick; I was afraid that she'd fallen in love with a transvestite," Daddy growled. Gilbert cringed, afraid of what he had gotten himself into, and I blushed, totally embarassed.

"Tellah," Mama hissed, punching Daddy's shoulder. "Apologize, and say hello to the boy."

Daddy grumbled a bit but extended his hand. "I'm Tellah Faraxhae, Anna's father," he stated flatly. Gilbert timidly shook Daddy's hand, probably afraid that his hand would catch on fire.

"And I'm Samantha, her mother," Mama added. "It really is a treat to finally meet you; we were so sorry that we missed you last time."

"Thanks," Gilbert said bashfully, glad that Mama at least wasn't scary. "I'm glad to finally meet you too."

Daddy made a pensive noise. "Over all, not a total loss, I suppose."

Not exactly a compliment, but it gave Gilbert a small measure of hope.

"So, where are the others?" I asked.

"In their rooms, mostly," Gilbert answered. "Maestro went out earlier to scout out a venure for Friday night."

"A venue?" Daddy asked.

"We're trying to get a show togeter for Friday and Saturday," Gilbert answered, a little more confident.

"We'd be pleased to help you in any way," Mama offered.

"That would be very kind of you," Gilbert agreed. "We don't come here often; I've never been here myself."

"Well," Mama said with a sigh, "I've got to get Tellah home, but perhaps Anna could show you around?"

"I'd love to," I agreed.

"That's totally ridiculous," Daddy protested. "One of us should go with them."

"They'll be fine," Mama insisted. "You need to get home and rest, and I need to start dinner. They'll be fine on their own."

Mama finally dragged Daddy away and Gilbert and I were on our own. As mad as Daddy was, it couldn't mask how nervous he was. He never like the idea of boys, even when I was small. If he didn't calm down soon, his health might hang in the balance. But I chose not to think about that; Mama would take care of him.

"So, where would you like to go first?" I asked Gilbert.

"Where do you think we should go?" he asked. "I don't know whats here."

I had some good ideas of where to take him first, but I didn't know where to go first. I got the general feeling that he wouldn't mind seeing the local bazzare, which carried a few exotic instruments that he'd probably enjoy.

We spent the rest of the day wandering around in the bazzares and markets, and a good deal of the next day as well. The things the traders brought in from around the world were all so fascinating, and Gilbert semeed to know something interesting about everything we saw, because he had been so many places. His surplus of foreign knowledge would have otherwise made me feel painfully inferior, but instead it held me captive for hours and hours.

On the third day we were still wandering around in the bazzares. Maestro had gotten permission to set up a small stage in the town square and the whole troupe and a few small children they had paid were advertsing all over the place. We were feeling incredibly good that morning. But as we wandered deeper into the markets the stands grew thinner and thinner, and the two of us realized that we had actually wandered out of the bazzare.

"I can't believe that we've finished the whole thing," he said, slightly dissapointed. "What else is there?"

I had been toying with an idea to take him to a very special place; a place that I didn't normally go anyway. But Gilbert was special.

"I've got something to show you," I informed, hauling him away toward—of all places—the cemetery. He seemed a little surprised at my decision, but he didn't argue, only let me lead him deeper and deeper into the sea of headstones. At last we came to a stop, close to the back, before my brother's grave.

"Why here?" Gilbert asked.

"You know why everyone is so freaked out that you came from the north?" I asked. "Why we're all so afraid of the waterway and the virus?"

"I've noticed, but no one wants to talk about it," he answered.

"A bunch of traders came here through the waterway and they were all sick with this virus. It infected and destroyed half the town," I explained sombelry. "This is my twin brother," I concluded, pointing down at the ground.

"Your _twin_?"

"He was a white mage; he died saving my life."

Gilbert looked shocked and sadened. "It's all beginning to make sense now. Everyone's been avoiding us since they found out that we came from the north. So… What was your brother's name?"

"Edward," I answered.

Gilbert gasped suddenly and gave me a quizzical look. "Are you serious?"

"Of course. Why? What's the matter?"

He hesitated, his mouth open to speak but no sound coming out. "I… I'll tell you later, when we aren't here."

"When?" I asked, a little conerned.

"Just later," he insisted.

I was still a little worried, but I didn't press him. Something had shaken him; perhaps he too had a family member—a brother of his own, even—who had died named Edward? It would be a coincidence for the ages, and it would have made me feel a little uncomfortable too. Talking about it here, in the cemetery, at my brother's own grave, would have been awkward and disrespectful anyway.

We spent a little more time in the cemetery before walking back to the world of the living. Somehow, Gilbert walked out seeming a little stronger.

"Will you tell me what's wrong now?" I asked, once we were in the square again.

"No; wait until the conert tomorrow night, okay?" he requested. "I'll have it all figured out by then."

Now he had something planned.

"You're not going to kill yourself, are you?" I asked tentitively.

"Of course not!"

"Then I'll wait," I agreed.

That night I fell alseep wondering what Gilbert had to tell me and why he was being so secretive about it. I prayed that he was okay and that he wouldn't do anything stupid and then slipped off to sleep, wishing sorely that Edward were alive to meet Gilbert too. Perhaps now, that I wasn't qute so lonesome and friendless, my brother's soul would rest a little easier in the netherworld.

We didn't meet again until the next evening, when the concert finally began. One of the troupe's two wagons served as a stage: one side of it was built on hinges and easy to unfold and lean on a set of wooden supports. After that, it was a matter of décor which the women delved into with enthusiasm. The whole place was lit brightly with paper lanterns and candles, covered in bright silk and paper flowers and draped with richly colored exotic cloths. It was a surprise for the whole town; I was glad that I hadn't come around earlier, though I would have loved to.

Gilbert, however, wasn't around. Maestro Roland laughed merrily when I asked after him.

"He's busy working on a new song, I believe," he explained. "He came up with a tune and some lyrics today, and he's been working on them all day. Actually, he said that it was for _you_."

"Me?"

"That's what he said. You're sure to be surprised tonight."

"Only if Daddy doesn't 'surprise' Gilbert all over the square first," I retorted. "As it is, I'm surprised enough. The stage looks great!"

"So glad you approve."

I had never actually been to a concert like this before; certainly there were people in town, who played instruments for fun, but never like this. The music was lively enough to make one dance in strange almost unnatural steps that one didn't even know. There was a song from every land in the world, and seemingly a dance to accompany them all. One or two people in the crowd knew these steps well enough, but the rest of us were lost. I wanted to join in, but I was antsy and nervous: Gilbert hadn't shown up yet, and his surprise hovering over my head was almost painful.

While I stood near the stage, waiting patiently and dancing to myself, Daddy found me.

"It's music, Anna; you're supposed to dance to it, not sit around like a fool," he teased. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

Daddy was actually dancing, and enjoying himself. He wasn't normally in a good mood like this, and it made me feel really happy to see him so.

"Just waiting," I answered, glancing impatiently at the stage. "Gilbert has a surprise for me, but he hasn't come out yet."

"Standing there waiting like a statue will only make the time go slower," Daddy pointed out. "Come dance with us."

"Nah; I don't know how," I protested.

"One dance with your poor old father," he insisted.

For my father and his unusual and wonderfully good mood, anything. I had seen my parents dance with each other before on other occasions, but had never bothered to learn myself; let alone had I ever actually danced with him or anyone else for that matter. At that point, the best I could do was ring-around-the-rosie, and now that Daddy was making me dance with him, it made me feel childish and silly. But as he talked me through the steps—which weren't quite so complex as I had anticipated—I found that I rather enjoyed it.

"You learn quickly, Anna; that's a good sign," Daddy praised once I was moving fluently. "You know, your mother and I danced this one at our wedding?"

"Really?" I asked, fascinated.

"Really. It's always been a sort of dream of hers—ours—that you would dance it too, on your wedding day," he mentioned, and I laughed.

"You hardly want me _walking_ past boys on the sidewalk!"

"I keep telling you, Anna: no dating until after you're married."

"Daddy…"

The music winded down, and the steps stopped with it. Everyone in the square applauded for our friends on the stage, and a few of the "cool" boys hollered after Shika and her dancing. One icy stare from her dark Eblanian eyes stopped them in an instant; she wasn't a dancer to fool around with, for she was traveled and wise.

Maestro Roland came forward for a brief speech.

"Thank you all for coming tonight," he began. "You've been a great audience and gracious hosts to us thus far; we can't have had a finer audience before."

I think we all knew that this wasn't totally true, but it sure sounded great, so we gave him another round of applause.

"Obviously, it's still pretty early in the evening, so we're only just getting started," he continued. "But our next performance is of particular importance to me. The next piece is actually being performed by my own apprentice, Gilbert, on the harp. It's a new song that he wrote just today for a very dear friend of his. It's his first solo performance, and we're all very proud of him. I should tell you all: coming out and standing up in front of people—be it one person or a crown of millions—can be gut-wrenching at times. It takes a lot of courage to do such a thing, especially when you're a young man or woman who is still so unsure of him or herself. And perhaps, even after years of experience, it's a thing that some may never get totally used to.

"So then, for his courage and his excellent music, please give a warm welcome to my protégé, Gilbert Christian!"

Amid the applause, Daddy leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Ever the ham, certainly, but very true. Suppose this is the surprise the boy had for you?"

"Must be," I agreed. "I can't wait."

Finally Gilbert stepped out of the wings with his harp in hand. He looked slightly embarrassed from the attention his master had drawn to him, but glad to be there and excited for the opportunity. Once again, he was dressed in bright colors like the others, but he wasn't wearing his lipstick this time; for his first solo performance, he wasn't going to look anymore foolish than he absolutely had to. He took a seat next to the other and cleared his throat to speak.

"Thanks everyone," he said sheepishly to the audience. "I only wrote this song today, so if I mess up don't come after me, alright?"

Everyone laughed softly, amused. For his first solo, Gilbert seemed confident enough; he must have been really excited.

"This song's for my friend Anna; most of you probably know her," he added, checking the strings one last time.

The song was vaguely familiar—underneath the lilting melody were the same meter and a few traces of the calling-song we loved so much. And, even though I was only a few yards away, the song still called out my name, begging me to come closer. Anyone with a lesser understanding would have been pulled involuntarily to the stage in a sort of trance. My mind and senses were too sharp from all my years of magical training to let the song's charm overtake me to such an extent; and Daddy's presence, still overbearing in spite of his mood, also kept me in place.

But that didn't mean that my mind didn't wander for the duration of the song. In my mind, I was dancing in a field of green grass and wildflowers, a soft wind caught in my brown hair and yellow dress. It was warm and pleasant, wherever it was. I had no idea where I had placed myself, but I liked it; I had never seen such a place but in books.

To my astonishment, Edward was there with me, not the child I had last seen him as but a young man, my own age, as if he had never died. In my mind, it was as if we had grown up together the way it was supposed to be. As before, the combination of his bright red hair and violet eyes was comical, and yet refined in his age.

I must have started crying, because when I came out of my daydream a few minutes later when the song ended, my whole face was wet and a painful lump was stuck in my throat.

The first thing that Gilbert did when his act was over was to run into the crowd and find me.

"How did you like the song?" he asked.

"It was amazing! You did that in one afternoon?"

"I had to get it done by tonight. You were crying though; are you okay?"

"I'm fine; the music was just so beautiful. I wish I could get surprises like this all the time."

Gilbert hesitated. "…I'm glad you think that, but that wasn't really the surprise I had in mind."

Now I was puzzled. "Really?"

"Come with me; I have to tell you something," he said, taking me by the hand and pulling me away from the crowd. We had gone a little way, still in sight of everyone but far away so that they wouldn't hear, when we stopped.

"You know how some great artists—for whatever reason—take pennames to hide their true identity?" he asked.

"I've heard of it," I agreed. "When Edward and I were small, we tried to make up pennames ourselves; he thought it sounded fun, but I didn't understand it at the time."

"Exactly," he answered, "about your brother—Edward… Gilbert's not my real name. It's the pseudonym I chose when I started traveling with Maestro Roland."

I was a little surprised, though I wasn't really. It made a lot of sense.

"…I understand," I said slowly, "but what does this have to do with my brother?"

"Yesterday when we were in the cemetery and you told me that your twin's name was Edward, I could barely believe it… My real name _is_ Edward."

Far from what I had guessed the day before, this was an even greater coincidence than I had though possible. Such a turn of fate was a sign; surely it was. But what could it mean?

Edward and I would have plenty of time to find out in the years to come: the next few of them would change everything.

Author's Notes…

A slight glitch. I've accidentally updated with the wrong chapter (my computer's being stupid again) and I think I've finally got the right one this time. If you've got me on story alert and have gotten a half-finished chapter or this chapter with the beginning of the next one tacked on the end, I'm sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

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Of Edwrad's revelation, I knew three things for certain:

Firstly, that the best friend I had had in years shared my beloved brother's name, and that must be a sign of something.

Secondly, I had no idea what that sign might be—was it good or bad? Did it mean that we would eventually be the closest of friends or the bitterest of enemies? I couldn't say, and that made me nervous.

Lastly, and most importantly, for the sake of his health if nothing else, _Daddy could not know_.

The solution to this last problem was simple: Edward had chosen a penname for a time such as this, and, in public, he would remain Gilbert for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately, this meant that I couldn't tell Mama either, and she was the one person who could have helped me decipher the sign.

Metis, who was also a mage and also working under a penname, offered to help me. (Unlike Edward, she wouldn't tell me what her real name was, though she said that it was a very common name in Baron, where she came from.)

"I'd rather ask my parents, if I could," I responded politely.

"I understand," Metis agreed. "I would rather have my parents help me too… As it is, they disowned me for running off with Roland. They thought he was no good, that he only wanted me because I was a pretty young girl with no experience in the world, etcetera, etcetera."

"But you left anyway," I observed, wondering how she could count such treatment from her parents worth it.

"Roland looks a little strange at first, but then we all do," she explained. "I was 16 at the time, and he was much older—a master—and I wanted him to teach me. It was like he knew how to play everything instrument on the Blue Planet, and that's what I wanted to do."

"So you just _left_?"

"Pretty much. We came back to Baron on tour a couple of years later and I spied them—my mom and dad—out in the crowd. They were just hovering in the back, watching sourly. And when I made eye-contact, they turned around and left the concert. I tried to catch them at our old house, but they had moved shortly after I left. And when I found where they were living and paid a visit, they said that they didn't know me, that no daughter of their was a dancer girl in a traveling circus, and then slammed the door in my face," Metis explained.

"…Ouch."

"I used to think that I was halucinating for years, but every time we go to Baron—even this past trip that we just got back form—I see them somewhere in the crowd."

"What about the others? What happened to their parents?"

"The twins were orphans, desparate for a way out of their orphanage," Metis answered. "Andrea joined us because of a mid-life crisis which he's actually still going through—he's a grouch, you know; a loveable grouch but a grouch nonetheless. Shika and Gilbert actually have permission from their parents to be with us. They don't call us a circus for nothing, you know."

How Metis kept such a good attitude was hard for me to understand. If my parents didn't want to speak to me, I would die.

Daddy was still nervous about me hanging around with the troupe, and especially about Edward—who was still Gilbert to his knowledge.

"He certainly seems to like you, for a friend," Daddy pointed out after the second concert.

"So what, we danced a little," I retorted, a little more willfull than I used to be. "It's really nothing."

"A little?" Daddy asked incredulously. "You spent every spare moment dancing with that bard."

"Daddy, you're being paranoid," I insisted impatiently. "It won't go anywhere."

Of this last statement, I wasn't so sure. At least, I hoped I wasn't. By any name he had, I liked Edward an awful lot. He was smart, interesting, funny—most importantly kind and generous to me. And wasn't that everything that Mama and Daddy both had told me to look for in a boyfriend?

To my pleasure, Edward seemed to feel the same about me. The name-sign looked very good, the more I thought about it. Everything was lining up. But I couldn't tell Daddy about it for so many reasons.

Mama, on the other hand, liked Edward just as much as I did. Even if Daddy was suspicious, Mama was always just delighted. If I had anything to say, she was the one to talk to.

"Mama," I confessed the night before the final concert, "I think I'm in love."

"Oh really? With whom, might I ask?" Mama didn't sound very surprised, but she had left her question open-ended to give me room to explain myself.

I allowed myself a childish giggle before continuing. "Oh, Mama, it's Gilbert! He's the best friend I've ever had!"

"Considering that you've spent the whole week with him—longer than you've spent with pretty much anyone since Edward died—I'm not surprised," Mama agreed.

The statement confused me for a second. Edward wasn't dead—I just told her that I was in love with him, hadn't I? And then I remembered that she didn't know about that, and she meant my brother. It seemed a little blasphemous, and it made me feel terrible as it made me feel silly. But something deep inside me told my heart not to feel so: my brother wouldn't have minded, and he certainly didn't now.

"So, what do you intend to do about this?" Mama asked.

"Well, I'm _not_ telling Daddy," I answered.

"A wise choise," she agreed. "Will you invite Gilbert here for dinner before they leave? I wouldn't mind having him; and there's little persuasion that won't change your father's mind."

"I'm not sure. Part of me wants to keep them far away form each other."

"I can understand that. Heaven help the smart yet unfortunate man who has the audacity to fall in love with you. You have to understand, sweety, your father's just a nervous old coot. He's already lost one child; he's teriffied of losing you too. It's natural even in normal fathers to be overly protective of their daughters. Your grandfather was overly protective of me as well when I was your age."

"So where is he?"

"…In Mysidia."

As much as Mama was willing to discuss with me, she still wouldn't tell me why she and Daddy left Mysidia and wound up in the middle of the desert. It was their business, true, but surely I was entitled to some kind of knowledge of why I had never met the uncles, aunts, grandparents and probably cousins I had always heard of. (They both assumed that by now I would have had several cousins; but, in reality, my only cousins, Palom and Porom, wouldn't be born for another two months, and then their sister Annin—named after me—wouldn't come along for many more years. That too is neither here nor there.)

"Anyways," Mama continued, "I see no problem in the two of you dating a little bit. Though I wonder how you would do it, since he's leaving tomorrow and not coming back for quite some time."

"Oh, I'm sure that we'll think of something," I said, craftily thinking back to the calling-song that Edward had writen for me.

"Do you suppose he has something special in mind for you?"

"Oh, I'm not sure… He's full of surprises."

That night at the final concert, Edward seemed just as sad as I was.

"I can't believe that we're really leaving in the morning," he lamented. "It feels like we just got here yesterday."

"I know," I agreed. "I'm going to miss you all so much. When do you think you'll come again?"

"Probably next year some time," he answered. "I've got friends all over the world that I can't wait to go see again, but I have none like you, Anna. I'll miss you too."

"You're lucky," I said. "Until I met you, I didn't have any friends."

"Maybe you can come with us?" he suggested.

"Daddy would never allow it; Mama wouldn't like it much either. I think I'm better off right here."

Edward sighed and, to my surprise, he took my hand in his. "It seems so unfair. We've only known each other for a week and a day, but I like you so much. I feel like I'm leaving something important behind."

"I feel like I'm losing something important," I agreed. "But we'll see each other again. Next year, I'll be 16."

"And I'll be 17," he added. "You don't suppose that your father will like me any better next year?"

"I hope so. I like you; and so does Mama. And if she likes you, there's almost nothing that Daddy can do about it."

The prospect reassured him, though it did nothing to bridge the gap of time we'd have to go without each other. When it was time to go, I thought briefly about kissing him goodnight; but Daddy was too close and would kill us both. I got the feeling that Edward was thinking exactly the same and just barley controlled my nerves enough to maintain myself.

They had already left when I woke up, and it frustrated me so bad that I thought I would tear my hair out of my head. The town seemed so empty now, and I suddenly remembered what being alone was like—over the week that I had spent constantly at Edward's side, I'd forgotten. Now that I had a friend that I loved so dearly, the return to normalcy was painful.

I trudged back home, feeling pretty miserable, and maybe a little sick. As I walked up to the front door of our house, a spot of white beneath our big oak tree caught my eye. It was an envelope with my name written on it. I took it into the house, giddily assuming that it was from Edward, planning to read it in the privacy of my room. But Daddy was in the kitchen and stopped me as I came in.

"Were they there?" he asked.

"No," I answered sadly, hiding the envelope in the fold of my dress.

"Smart thing, to get an early start in this desert," Daddy replied. "Even this late in the year, it still gets so hot so quickly. The temperatures will be more forgiving in the Damcyani desert, I think. Don't worry about them, Anna; they'll be fine."

He could tell that I was upset, but he didn't seem to understand why. Once again, it was hard to tell if it was ignorance or denial, but I could sort of understand if he thought that I was worried. The troupe had been traveling for years; I knew they'd be alright. I wasn't worried at all; I just missed them all—especially Edward.

But Daddy would be confused _and_ furious if I told him that, so I hurried back to my room to read my letter before he could continue the conversation.

_Dear Anna,_

_I didn't expect you to be awake when we left, but I wish I had been able to say goodbye again. I know I keep saying it, and it must tire you, but I'm going to miss you so much. _

_I've thought this over for days, and I haven't been totally sure of how to say it. I wasn't even sure if I should bring it up at all. But, after consulting not only my mentor but your own mother, I've decided that I owe you this much. It's only fair to warn you how much I absolutely _adore_ you and wish that there were a way around the distance between us and your father's magic to court you._

_If this is too much for you, I would understand; I'd never make you do anything you didn't want to do. But if you feel the same way about me, _please_ send me a letter!_

_Your friends,_

_Edward Chris von Moir._

It almost _was_ too much for me. I just barely refrained from screaming with glee—that would have alerted Daddy to come see if I was alright, and it would escalate from there. As precious as that little scrap of paper was, I incinerated it with a quick Fire spell, safe forever from Daddy's failing sight.

The next thing that occurred to me was to talk to Mama, who had apparently been in on Edward's plan the whole time. It was Sunday, and we were all in one place at the same time for the first time in days. Getting Mama alone was fairly easy.

"Guess what?" I asked passively.

"What?" Mama answered.

"Gilbert left me a letter this morning, saying that he loved me."

"Oh really?" Mama's feign at surprise was meant to be obvious; she knew that I knew.

"When did he ask you? He never mentioned it," I asked.

"Last night, as soon as he saw me," she answered. "He pulled me to the side and asked if I minded him dating you. I said no, of course, but I haven't told your father yet. My answer was good enough for the boy, so he went on his way."

"What are we going to tell Daddy?"

"I'll deal with that later, after you've left."

I was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Anna, you're not happy here," she pointed out. "You have no friends, school's a bore, your father obviously makes you feel uncomfortable around other people—there's just nothing for you in the little town."

"But where would I go?"

"Maestro Roland and I were discussing this. He told me about this very prestigious magical academy in Baron; Metis attended this school before she joined the troupe. It's certainly not as fine as the schools in Mysidia, but the place has quite a name for itself. It's an all-girls boarding school, and there are other girls of all ages from all over the world attending."

As sudden as it was, I was excited. This extraordinary new place sounded amazing. "But what about Daddy?"

"I've already discussed it with him. It took him a few hours of brooding, but he finally agreed that, perhaps, a more formal education could _possibly_ be better for you than learning here, at home."

"The money?"

"This is what your savings account in the bank is for; the total in your account should just about cover your tuition for the next few years. Plus, no doubt, you'll find a good job in the city soon after you get there; that will certainly help to cover your expenses."

This was all far too grand, too perfect. "When do classes start?"

"In a few weeks. That gives you a few days to pack your things and enough time to actually get to the city and get settled, wouldn't you agree?"

I was stunned. Last week I had been a lonely outcast; now, all of a sudden, everything was going my way.

Several days later, the few really important things I owned packed into a trunk, we started off on our journey. We had both tried to talk Daddy out of coming, but of course he wouldn't have it. He didn't even like th idea of me being so far away. This whole visit would be difficult with his antics; I hoped that he wouldn't make us look like fools in the big city.

The first part of the journey took us a day across the desert, to the west. The desert gradually ebbed away, the sand slowly being replaced by grass, a few trees, and finally a small mountan range with a wide pass. Beyond that pass lay the elusive town of Mist.

We had hoped that the Summoners who dwelt there would let us stay and rest for a day or two, but we were wrong. Upon entering the town, every neon-haired villager stopped and stared at us with suspicion. One of them, dressed in the robes of a high mage, stepped in front of us s we walked through the square.

"What do you mean, entering this place with no invitation?" he demanded.

"We're just passing through, on our way to Baron," Daddy answered sharply.

The high mage assessed the three of us—Daddy most of all—and then sighed reluctantly. "Fine. You can stay in the inn for the night, but you must leave in the morning. And you mustn't relay anything that you see here to anyone out there," he said, pointing toward the other end of town, indicating everyone outside.

"Certainly a friendly lot," Daddy mumbled sarcastically when we were behind the door of our room, away from the ears of the Summoners (We hoped.).

"Their power is extraordinary," Mama pointed out. "You know, back in the days of the Wicked Mysidian Elders, they actually started a black market trade of these people."

I was horrified by the statement. "You're not serious!"

"I'm totally serious, dear. The Wicked Elders allowed all kinds of terrible things; human salvery, prostitution rings, legalized trade in drugs—"

"Their tolerance of immorality knew no bounds," Daddy interupted. "Stupid Steele's…" he mumbled.

Of the Steele's he mentioned, I knew little. I knew that Daddy had a rival by that name as a boy, and that the family was apparenty a root of evil in Mysidia. The connection between the Steele's and the Wicked Elders was hard to make at the time, but I would understand eventually.

"At any rate," Mama continued, "I don't blame the Summoners for wanting to stay hidden and secretive. If I was powerful enough to be treated as a tool and sold, I would want to hide myself and my powers from everyone but others like myself."

I couldn't imagine having a gift so enormous that someone would want to use me in such a way. Along with my always overwhelming respect for the Summoners, I also found deep pity for them.

As we approached the other end of Mist the next morning, ready to finish our journey, we were stopped again. The high mage and a lemon-haired woman stood waiting for us.

The woman was Tazé, the Summoner I had seen so many years ago.

"I trust that you slept well?" the high mage asked. "In order to reach Baron, you'll have to pass through Mist Cave. The place is guarded by Mist, the dragon eidolon , and namesake of our village. She is our patron eidolon, and very powerful. Under normal circumstances, she is not to be disturbed. However, Lady Tazé has some influence over her, and will guide you through the cave safely.

"On your return trip, I trust that you will simply Teleport back to your own home and not disturb us again?" he conculded dourly.

Daddy still didn't agree with his tone. But, as we walked farther and farther away from the town, Tazé laughed it off.

"You shouldn't worry about him," she informed us. "He's a little grouchy, but he's just trying to protect us. It's what leaders do, you know."

"I think I've seen you before," Mama mused. "Weren't you part of the mission team that came to Kaipo to help with the virus?"

"Yes, actually," she agreed sadly. "It nealry kept me from having children myself."

"I can understand that," Mama said sympathetically. "We lost our son to it."

"Oh, my apologies," Tazé said. "If we had come sooner, perhaps we could have saved him."

"You couldn't have," Mama informed, laying a comforting hand on the younger woman's shoulder.

I glanced over my shoulder at Daddy, who looked none too comfortable with the topic. Actually talking about Edward and what had happened made me feel a lot better than keeping my thoughts on it to myself.

"He died saving my life from the virus," I put in. "He was great brother; I wish I still had him…"

My tone suddenly sounded so juvenile, like I was channeling the small child who had wanted to talk about her greif but wasn't really allowed to. Tazé didn't pretend like she knew how I felt, because she didn't.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. So, why do you carry only one small trunk for a whole trip to Baron?" she asked.

"I'm on my way to the magic academy," I answered proudly.

"That's exciting. You know, I've been considering sending my little on to study black magic in Baron, when she's older. It would do us all some good to have some outside influence; I hate being cooped up so in this tiny village. If you ever come through here again, you'll have to let me know how the school is."

"So you had a child after all? How wonderful!"

"A daughter; she'll be one year old in a few months. I was loathe to leave her, but she is with her father who loves her so much. I'm the only Summoner that Mist will listen to, I had no choice."

"What is her name?"

"Her name is Rydia. Isn't that lovely?"

"Very lovely, indeed," Mama agreed. "Though certainly not more so than Anna, _my_ daughter," she added jokingly. "I'm Sammy, by the way."

"I'm Tazé," Tazé introduced, shaking Mama's hand. "Liam, our mayor who _loves_ you three so much, says that it's foolish to introduce ourselves to outsiders, since we'll most likely never meet again. My husband and I don't agree at all; Liam is _so_ coarse and impolite sometimes."

Liam had point—I probably wouldn't meet with Tazé again, nor would I ever meet her husband or baby Rydia. But that didn't bother me much. I liked Tazé; she was as nice as I remembered her. I would miss her too.

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Author's Notes…

This has been a turn of events that I hadn't anticipated myself. It won't last long, though—a chapter and a half, tops. I know that we all want to get to the part where Edward shows up again and Tellah starts hitting him and things like that.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

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I had never gone through a cave before. Considering this, the virus panic had left me with a fear of caves that was both rational and totally impractical. As we approached Mist Cave, the grown-ups all seemed undaunted by the dark damp tunnel that lay before us; I was shaking.

As soon as we walked inside I felt a presence that threatened to be menacing, but I also sensed that it had a great capacity to be benevolent. As obvious as she already was, Tazé's own presence beside us grew suddenly overwhelming.

"It's okay," she informed us. "It's only Mist; she's a little uncomfortable, but she won't do us any harm."

"Where is it?" Daddy demanded, his eyes darting around for a very real and tangible dragon that his failing sight couldn't have seen anyway.

"You can't see her," Tazé informed calmly. "She will only manifest if I call on her."

"But there's something there!" Daddy insisted.

"Don't attempt to understand things you know nothing of," Tazé advised. "You have enough to worry about as it is; Mist would only be a monkey-wrench in your thoughts."

The path through the cave was very straightforward, and Tazé knew every twist and turn of it like she knew her own face. In fact, the passage was so small and straight that we could see the exit many hundred yards before us. Enough natural light poured in from both entrances that only the deepest corners and the very center of the cave were unlit. We didn't even need to cast a Fire spell to light the way.

"I used to play in this cave as a child," Tazé said dreamily. "I think that's why Mist became so comfortable with me. Everyone else feared her, but I never did; in time, she allowed me to summon her. Everyone thought that I was a wonder-girl, but I believe that it was just because I did what I thought was best. I've always thought that your heart will lead you to what is right, even if it doesn't look so great."

"I don't understand," Daddy stated flatly.

"Well, everyone was afraid to get too close to Mist, because they feared her power. And she was lonely. They all told me not to disturb her, but I was curious. So I began coming here frequently and we two became friends. Everyone in the town was scared to death that I would anger our patron eidolon and bring about our destruction, but our friendship has made her stronger than ever. If one person does the right thing, even if everyone else is doing something else, it makes a difference."

"Now _that _ I understand," Daddy agreed.

At last we came to the other end of the cave, and it was time for Tazé to bid us farewell.

"I ought to return home, but I would have loved to accompany you to he city. I've only been once, myself," she lamented.

"You should come with us," Daddy suggested. "Sammy and I are only staying a day or two ourselves; they wouldn't miss you _that_ much."

Tazé laughed. "As much as I'd love to, I really couldn't leave my baby for so long. Surely you understand?"

"Of course," Mama agreed. "You'll give our regards to your family, and to Liam, won't you?"

"Absolutely. Good luck in the city, Anna. I hope that you enjoy school."

I grinned a proud thank you, glad that she cared. It was a sad thing, but I never did see Tazé again.

Baron was the largest and most powerful kingdom in the world at that time. It included a strategic peninsula with a small desert in the center of it and an excellent spot in the ocean which it hadn't used in many years. It also included a mountain range that stretched into the desert from which we had just come; it almost touched Kaipo, which didn't really belong to anybody. The territory also came shy of touching Mist, which, as far as politics was concerned, didn't exist.

The expanse of the civilized part of the kingdom was visible from the hilly area near the mountain range the cave was built into. There were various small towns dotting the landscape with spidery roads connecting them. Eventually the roads all came to a crux and led in one direction up to the big city, which was built in a circle around the castle.

I had never seen a castle before either. The sight of the enormous white and grey stone building was enough to make me sit down for a second. I was glad that I would be staying in the city and not in the castle; I would have never found my way out again!

It took us a whole day to approach the city gate. And beyond it, in the dim light of late evening, the streets were emptying. Even so, there were still more people around than the entire population in Kaipo combined. Even the inns were bigger here, accomodating more people and making more money.

"This has to be the most amazing place I've ever seen," I stated that night as the three of us ate dinner in our room. "Everything is so big and shiny here. I don't think I could have memorized this entire city if I had lived here my whole life!"

"So you're enjoying yourself so far?" Mama noted.

"Yes! I can't wait to meet the head mistress tomorrow; I'm so excited!"

"It's great that you're so excited, but you don't _have _to stay here if you don't like it," Daddy informed. "If you don't feel comfortable, you can still come home with us."

"Don't worry about that, Daddy; I have a feeling I'm going to have a great time here."

"Don't be so sure," he cautioned. "Remember: these other girls aren't like you. Surely, they're all talented if they're at this school, but probably not as talented as you, I'd wager."

"That's sweet of you, Daddy, but I'm not too concerned about that. I'll make friends."

"It's not making friends that I'm worried about. There are going to be people who are jealous of you—plenty of them. If anyone gives you any trouble, I want you to write us about it, okay?"

"Tellah, are you _trying_ to scare her? This is her first venture outside of Kaipo, and we want her to feel confident, not nervous," Mama scolded. "Don't listen to him. Anyone who doesn't adore you right away should drop dead."

"What if I do meet people who don't like me?"

"Ignore them. But if they do give you a lot of trouble, you need to tell someone—a teacher, a counselor, the head mistress—"

"Even us," Daddy interjected. "You can always come home if it gets too bad; no one would think any less of you for it."

"Daddy, I'm not going to drop out in the middle of a semester just because some bullies decided to pick on me. I'm a lot stronger than you think," I retorted.

It was plain to see that Daddy didn't like the idea of me being so far away. He really_ was _trying to scare me into quitting and coming back home so that he could keep an eye on me. I wished that I knew what it was he was afraid of and that I could ask him about it without causing a fight.

All the same, I went to sleep that night still full and proud of myself, confident that I would get on just fine in the morning. Daddy wasn't going to rain on _this_ parade.

The next day, we traveled to the heart of the city to visit the campus. The whole school—classrooms, libraries, cafeteria, dormitories and offices—took up an entire block. By far more manageable than the huge castle. At the main entrance, an aging woman with reddish-brown hair stood scanning the streets. She was wearing a red dress and a darker red cloak bearing the school's crest. She also wore a red hat with a white feather tied to the brim with a brown ribbon.

_She's a red mage,_ I instantly thought.

When she saw us coming, she ran up to us, smiling merrily.

"Good morning," she greeted. "You must be the Faraxhae family," she guessed.

"Indeed," Daddy agreed, shaking her hand. "How did you know?"

"I noticed your daughter is carrying a trunk," she observed. "We have an appointment for a tour of the school today, yes? I am headmistress Mona Tiffany."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Tellah, and this is my wife, Samantha."

"And this must be Anna," the headmistress concluded, holding out her hand to me. "It is a pleasure to meet a new student, any day. Welcome to Sparrow's Wing Academy."

"Thanks," I answered shaking her hand. "It's an honor to be here, ma'am. I can't wait to get started."

"Neither can we. Shall we go inside?"

Headmistress Tiffany led us inside to the lobby. I felt a shiver of excitement run down my spine. This was my new school! I wished that I knew Metis' real name so that I could ask after her.

Tiffany led us first to a large dressing room with several closets. "I forgot to ask in the letter that I sent you," she said to Mama. "What class of magic does Anna study?"

"It's actually a bit of a gray area," Mama admitted. "Black, mostly, but she does know a lot of low-level white magic as well. So… I suppose that she is a red mage."

"Excellent," Tiffany said at last, striding over to one of the closets. "Even if she leans closer to the black end of the spectrum, we have a recent shortage in red mages such as myself. We can bring her up to speed quickly, if she is as gifted as you have told me."

"She's already begun studying the –Ja level spells," Daddy informed.

"Already? She'll be just fine here, then," she agreed and opened the closet. It was full of uniforms. There was one for all three classes—black, white and red—and they all consisted of the same basic pieces—a plaid skirt, a short-sleeved shirt with the school crest embroidered on the front, and a mage's robe—only in different colors.

"Anna, what size do you wear?" Tiffany asked, assessing the red mage uniforms.

"Oh, uh…. I'm really not sure," I answered.

She eyed me for a second, assessing size, and returned to the uniforms. At last she picked one out and handed it over to me. "I think this one will work. Go in that room over there and try it on," she directed.

Whatever conversation went on outside was lost with the thick and magic-proof walls of the dressing room. Trying on my uniform was a blast; I had never actually seen myself in red. After posing a few times in front of the mirror, I stepped back out.

"So, what do you think?" I asked everyone, turning a circle for them to see. It was a great uniform, and it looked great on me: a red shirt with a flattering but not low-cut neckline and short slightly off-the shoulder sleeves, a plaid pleated skirt that fell just above my knees—the shortest skirt I had ever worn—and a red, sleeved cloak that fastened across my shoulders. All that I needed now was a red feathered hat like Tiffany wore and I would be the perfect student.

Mama and Tiffany were very impressed. The sizes suited me: rare, on the first try, which _must_ have been a good sign.

"I never realized quite how tall you were until now," Mama mused. "The skirt becomes your height."

"Red is an excellent color for her," Tiffany added. "She's simply gorgeous!"

I was really proud of my new uniform and how everyone seemed to like it. I felt like the best dressed girl in the world.

But Daddy didn't like it at all.

"That skirt is way too short," he protested. "Someone ought to take the hem out or something."

"All our girls were skirts like this," Tiffany informed him calmly. "Actually, the red mages have longer skirts than the others."

"Is that true?" Daddy asked skeptically.

"Since red mages are more active than the others, it's only practical. Our red mages train with short and long swords, bows, spears, javelins and lances, nunchucks and fighting staffs," Tiffany explained. "Of course, she'll also be alloted several sets of clothes for training: pants and a shirt in her colors."

"The pants, I can stand; I don't like it, but at least they cover her legs. Surely you don't mean to say that you make your students walk around showing off that much skin like whores?" Daddy demanded.

If his last remarks had wounded my pride a little, this one was like a dagger plunged into my heart. He didn't just think that I was unattractive, he though I looked like a whore. I thought that I was going to cry. Luckily, Tiffany wasn't going to stand for such talk about _her_ students.

"I can't speak for every single child living on this campus, but I will firmly warn you that none of the students that _I_ know are whores," she growled, deeply offended as I was. Mama looked ready to say soemthing too, but we were interupted by two girls walking into the room.

"Mistress Tiffany, they told us you would be here," stated the first, who carried a clipboard.

"Oh, hello dears," Tiffany greeted. "I'm really in the middle of something right now… But maybe you can help me with something?"

"Sure," the other girl agreed.

Tiffany beckoned them forward. "These two unpstanding young women are my TA's, Goza Luciano and Monique Champlain."

The two nodded their heads politely, happy to be there despite Daddy's menacing glare. Goza wore the white mage's uniform, all white with bright red accents, but, as Tiffany had explained, her skirt was usbstantially shorter than mine. Still, her fingertips, relaxed at her side, didn't reach past the hemline. She was so pretty, her dark blonde hair pulled back neatly in a pony-tail and her pale blue eyes lined lightly with black eyeliner, painted modestly with a glittery shade of gold that made her eyes seem brighter.

Monique was also pretty—nay, beasutiful. Her skin was dark, the color of coffee with a little cream, and her glossy hair was a brown so dark that it was almost black. She wore the black mage's uniform, royal blue—despite the _black_ magic that it stood for—trimmed with yellow. Instead of the simple flats that Goza was wearing, Monique wore tall black boots that almost reached her short hemline. Her brown eyes required no fancy colored paints, but they were ringed with a thin line of black. Her eyes looked like jewels.

"These two have been incredicble assistants," Tiffany explained. "They want to teach here after they graduate; they'll be grand educators, to be sure.

"So, Mr. Faraxhae, what were you saying about my students?"

"That their manner of dress is more becoming of street-girls than upstanding magic students. It gives magic a bad name, the way they tolerate such a dress policy. They ought to be emabarassed!" Daddy answered, totally unabashed.

I started edging away back to the little room I had changed in, my hurt changed to utter humiliation. Perhaps Goza and Monique were too focused on my father and hadn't noticed me yet. As it was, they seemed a little surprised but not too worried about him.

Mama punched him hard in the shoulder. "Mini-skirts don't make a girl evil, Tellah," she scolded. "You never minded when _I_ wore them."

"We were stupid teenagers, like these young people, and you were my girlfriend," Daddy countered. "My stupid girlfriend is one thing, but my daughter is another thing entirely. The parents of these two girls should be appalled."

Daddy was going a little too far, calling Goza and Monique stupid; he obviously wasn't including me in the collection of stupid young people he mentioned, for his daughter was far too superior to be called stupid.

Still, they didn't seemed incredibly fazed.

"I've never thought the skirts were too bad," Monique insisted, sticking it to Daddy by addressing everyone but him.

"The only thing I don't like about them is that the newer ones shrink when you wash them," Goza added. "_That's_ a pain."

I was grateful from the bottom of my heart that they weren't bothered too badly. It was comical: with their mini-skirts, make-up and outspokenness, Daddy had every reason to think that these two were bad news. In his mind, a good girl was simple, modest and quiet. Quiet, above all.

But I was getting very tired of him trying to keep the coversation floating over my head, where he thought it belonged. I had opinions of my own—some of which I couldn't say out loud, no matter how badly I wanted to—and I was going to make them known, darn it.

"I like the skirts," I stated firmly. Everyone suddenly turned and looked at me as if they had just noticed me for the first time. "And I don't think it's fair of you to call them stupid just because you don't agree with what they're wearing, Daddy."

Daddy was taken aback; it wans't like me to jump into conversations witout an invitation—the way he had taught me all my life. It took him a moment to find a counter for my statements.

"So you're saying that you _want _ to dress like a street-walker?" he demanded.

I could have strangled him. Once again he was calling me names and totally missing the point!

"If I wanted to dress like a whore, I would cut about six inches off of the skirt, wear a lot of cheap, tacky jewelry, big ugly boots and really bad make-up, like the popular girls back home," I informed. "Besides, these skirts are way more comfortable than the long dresses you make me wear in the desert in the summer."

Before he could critisize my judgememtn again, Mama punched his shoulder again.

"She has a point, you know. So you don't get your way—grow up and act like you have some sense," she scolded. "It's not like a mini-skirt automatically paints a target on her back and screams 'I'm a whore! Rape me!'"

"Sammy—!"

"That's enough, Tellah. Now apologize to these two patient young ladies who put up with your insults so gracefully."

There was absolutely nothing that he could do, now that Mama had commanded him. He mumbled an incincere apology to Monique and Goza, who readily accepted it anyway.

"And apologize to the headmistress for throwing a tantrum in front of her and wasting her time."

Again, an incincere apology from Daddy, who believed he hadn't done anything wrong.

"And apologize to Anna for making fun of her and making her look like a freak in front of her peers and headmistress."

"I've done no such thing!" Daddy insisted.

"You said that she looked like a whore twice!" Mama pointeed out, as flabbergasted with him as I was. "Your behavoir hurt her feelings and made her look like that girl with the crazy over-protective father that no one wants to touch."

"How do you know that?"

"I've been paying attention to something other than her clothes, like her _face_ and the way she keeps trying to slink away from you."

"It's true," I agreed. "At one point, I was about to cry."

"And there you have it," Mama concluded. "Now you look deep inside your selfish heart and think about the fact that your daughter almost cried because of you."

Something seemed to strike a vein at last. Daddy truly looked sorry for the first time. For a moment he studied my face: hurt and humiliation had vanished, replaced with exasperation and quiet rage.

"I'm sorry."

I think he meant it; he sounded sorry enough, but it was difficult to tell with him.

That short unhappy chater of our lives over, the headmistress led us out of the dressing room and into the hallway to continue our tour. As she walked, Goza and Monique followed closely behind her.

"Ma'am, if we may?" Monique asked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. What was it that you wanted?" Tiffany asked.

"Some forms just arrived; something to do with transfer students, I think," Monique explained, and Goza produced a small stack of papers from her clipboard.

"There's a note that says 'Urgent' attached to the stack," Goza added.

"I'll get to it as soon as I can," Tiffany assured them, taking the papers and regarding the top form for a breif moment. "Now, there is something I need you two to do for me."

"Sure," Monique agreed.

"What is it?" Goza asked cheerily.

"Well, this young lady is Anna Faraxhae; she's a new student this semester," Tiffany explained, motioning for me to come forward. "She could use a few friends to show her around the school and the rest of the city. I'd like the two of you to look after her."

The two girls looked excited at the prospect of a new friend. I was excited as well; it would be nice to have more than just one friend on my list. I had a feeling that the three of us would get along just fine.

No matter what Daddy thought of them.

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Author's Notes…

I've taken a long time to finish this chapter, and I'm sorry. I've been very busy writing other thigns for my AP English class. It's a college-level class, so it is very difficult to keep up. Finally, I've gotten a wee bit of a break.


	8. Chapter 8

A glitch: in a little bit, you might find the words "make a lot" in green print that leads to a Google page for job advertisements. I'd advise you NOT to click on it, because I don't know exactly what it is or where it ultimately leads. Just ignore it, if you see it. Thank you.

Chapter 7

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I hadn't expected to be so excited when Mama and Daddy left me at the school. It was a sudden feeling of liberation to be out on my own, making friends and learning new things in a structured environment. And so far everyone seemed pretty nice.

Of course, I had a feeling that I would also make a few enemies in time.

Goza and Monique had been sharing a large bedroom, and were more than happy to move a third bed into it for me. They were both so eager to be my friend, and I was eager to be theirs. Now I had three friends instead of just one!

"It's a big school," Monique cautioned, "but you'll get used to it. Goza and I met when we got lost our first year here."

"And we've been best friends ever since," Goza finished.

I laughed a little. "And Daddy said that everyone would be jealous of me and hate my guts. He's convinced that our family is better than everone else because our _particular_ family was all high and mighty in Mysidia."

"He must be pretty embarassing sometimes," Goza gussed.

"Like today? Oh yeah. He barley lets me near anywhere or hang out with anyone. All the boys just want some, and all the girls want me dead."

"And wearing short skirts only makes everything worse, huh?" Monique added.

"Yeah. Crazy dads…"

"You'll make a lot of frends really quickly, if you just behave and act nicely," Goza informed. "I get the feeling that you're not like the other red mages."

"What do you mean?"

"You know how your dad thinks that all the students here are whores 'cause of the short skirts?" Monique asked.

"Yeah. And I'm still really sorry about that."

"Well, most of the red mages here really _are_ whores. They're all no good and trashy; they'll cut their skirts short and wear spike heels and too much make-up, you know? They're just… trash."

"And they'll probably expect you to be the same, at first glance," Goza warned.

"…Ouch. What do you think I should do?" I asked.

"Stay away from them," Monique advised. "They've pretty much taken over the western courtyard. If you know what's good for you, stay away from there."

"Why the western courtyard?"

"All the dragoon squires hang around on the western side of the school," Goza answered.

"The dragoons are the country's land force, and it's been getting weaker and weaker since the airships became so popular. Those boys are idiots, and their traning has become a joke. But they're easy enough, just like our red mages; it's a match made in heaven."

"That's sad," I concluded.

"There is this one squire who comes around who's pretty nice," Goza put in. "He always comes to see that girl in my class, what's-her-name… Rosa, I think."

"I've seen him," Monique agreed. "Doesn't he usually have a firend with him? He's a knight squire, and his hair is, like, white? The knight is a cutie; he always smiles and nods his head respectfully when a girl walks by," she explained deamily.

"Do you even know his name?" Goza teased.

"I should, I suppose. You should ask Rosa; she ought to know."

"Actually…"

"What's the matter, Goza?" I asked when she hesitated.

"Rosa hasn't been doing so well lately. For some reason, a bunch of red mages decided to target and bully her lately. Oh, you guys haven't seen Rosa: she's beautiful, talented, sweet, charming, chaste, nice—complete opposite from the reds. She's been depressed by their bullying; I think she's leaving."

Monique made a sympathetic face. "Oh, that's terrible! Rosa sounds so nice. Where will she go?"

"Her mother is the court healer, at the castle. I think she's going to stay there from now on."

"Aw, that means that her cute friends won't come around anymore…"

"It's just as well; you don't need boys distracting you with semester final coming up."

Monique pouted sarcastically. "I'd just like to find that one guy, you know? The one who makes you feel all happy and snugly inside, but he doesn't get in your way? The kind who's always happy to help you study and never tries to squeeze in front of your schoolwork, but still makes you feel pretty when your hair's a mess and your shirt's unironed."

"Honey, do you know how hard those are to come by?"

"Yeah… Anna, do you have a boyfriend?"

"Sort of," I admited, realizing that I needed to write Edward a letter. Lowering my voice to a whisper I explained, "If Daddy finds out, he'll kill us both."

"Ooh, is he cute?" Monique inquired.

"In a goofy way. He's… a character, no doubt of that."

"Is he in Kaipo?" Goza asked.

"I'm not sure where he is; he's a player in a caravan."

The two girls lit up.

"Which one?" Monique asked excitedly. "There are a bunch that come through the city in the spring and summer."

"What's the leader's name?" Goza asked.

"Roland; Maestro Roland. He's a Troian," I answered.

"Oh, we know them! One of their players is a Sparrow's Wing alumn; students can get disounts and extra credit for going to see them," Goza explained.

"I just met them this summer; she and Maestro Roland recommended this school to my mother," I explained.

"And your boyfriend travels around with them? How exciting!"

"How romantic," Monique added. "He must be the blonde boy with the harp, then. Dresses like a clown and wears grren lipstick when he performs?"

"Yeah, that's Ed—Guilbert, alright. I've been meaning to write him a letter for days, but I've been so busy. He's probably somewhere near Damcyan by now, wondering why I haven't written him yet…"

"That is _so_ sweet!" Monique squealed girlishly. "That guy plays the most amazing music in the world."

"Ignore her and her pining," Goza advised. "She's just a little boy-crazy."

I didn't mind the idea of a boy-crazy best friend at all. Actually, it made me feel more at home. For the first time in my life, I had friends that I could just be a regualr girl with. I wouldn't have to be anything other than "Anna, the normal person with normal goals and normal life" that I had always wanted to be.

"Curfew's pretty close; I don't think we have time to see much of the school," Goza said sadly. "We'll have to give you the grand tour tomorrow. There's a lot to see, but I think we can do it all in one day if we stay focused."

"Goza's the freaky-serious one," Monique added. "If she doesn't have a strict schedule, she's just not happy."

"_Not_ true," Goza countered.

"It's alright; I understand," I agreed. "The whole school by this time tomorrow night: we can totally do that. But I'd rather steer clear of the western courtyard, if the red mages are as bad as you say they are."

"We'll run into our fair share of them anyway, but we'll avoid that area," Monique agreed.

"It's a shame," Goza lamented. "The western courtyard is the prettiest one in the school, and it opens up right onto a road with a pastry shop right across the street."

After talking a while longer, we finally went to bed. The other two fell asleep quickly, but I couldn't right away. So much had happened in one little day; I was too jacked up to sleep. And I still had an important letter to write. While my friends slept, I slipped out of bed and stole to my new desk, pulling a pencil and a piece of paper from one of my bags.

_My Dearest Edward,_

_I'm sorry I haven't gotten to writing you back in so many days. So much has happened, and so suddenl;, I've been a little pressed for time._

_I'm going to school in Baron now; I just met the headmistress and moved in this morning. Now I'm free, and can finally answer your letter._

_My answer is yes! A million times yes, I would love for you to court me! Mama will explain everything to Daddy; if she says that something is so, it _is_ so and he can't change it. I think we'll be safe from him, so long as we have her help.._

_In the meantime, I'll be in Baron. Write back, please!_

—_Anna. _

As soon as the letter was Teleported away, I felt a bit of a burden lift off my shoulders. He'd probably get the letter in a few seconds but, due to the time zones, I wasn't sure if he'd be awake to read it. Now that this was done, I finally felt tired enough to sleep.

Goza's alarm clock woke us all at 7:30 in the morning. I was used to getting up earlier, but Monique complained that she'd rather sleep in until 8:00 on a Saturday during summer.

"We've got to get going," Goza insisted. "The school is huge; we've got a lot of walking to do. I'd suggest you wear walking shoes, Mo."

30 minutes later we wandered into the bg cafeteria where we had eaten dinner together the night before. Breakfast had started being served at least an hour and a half ago, and would continue to be served until 9:00. Even though there were no classes on the weekend for summer students like my friends, most of us opted to wear our uniforms or something of the color-equivalent. Most of the tables were occupied by a healthy mix of black and white mages, with an occassional red mage. Largely, the red mages had confined themselves to a table by the windows where the sun shone in the brightest. The most prime real estate in the room seemed to belong solely to them, and it made me a little mad.

"They _do_ look like trash," I noted. Most of them weren't eating, concentrating instead on applying thick sticky make-up and chattering in an annoyingly high pitch. "I'm glad that not all of them have cloystered themselves."

"The few who are sitting with the other classes are really nice, actually," Goza explained. "They dress and behave more like you than the other reds."

"That's a comfort."

The other reds noticed me and kept an eye on me for the rest of our time in the cafeteria, but I ignored their staring. Once again, I was far too dignified to care what trash thought of me.

The first stop on the tour was the library, which was conveniently located in the dead center of the school. If one knew where the library was, one could figure out where just about anything was.

"Since classes end in a few weeks and you have nothing to do, you can spend your time here," Monique suggested. "The librarians don't mind it; they let people take study hall in here all the time, you know."

That was a good thing. I had a feeling that I would need as much time to get aquainted with the big library as everything else.

The next big stop was the training yard for the red mages. It was a gymnasium built as an indoor yard with various pieces of equipment arranged on the walls. Several other girls were already in the yard working with weights, swords of various lengths and shapes, and one girl even had a set of nunchucks.

"This place is awesome," I breathed, marveling at all the equipment.

"Red mages are required to train with at least three weapons every school year," Goza explained. "You can change them next year if you want."

"Anyone can take this class, but it's mostly for reds. They're notorius for mercilessly teasing any other class that dares take weapons training with them."

"That's cruel," I snorted, determined to fix this somehow.

As we strolled down a classroom-lined hallway and my friends listed the names of the teachers and the subjects they taught, a veryimportant question popped into my head.

"Is there a chapel somewhere?"

"Always," Goza answered proudly. "I acolyte every Saturday night."

"We both attend the service," Monique answered. "It's a little more modern than other services around the city, but I think you'll like it. Are you, like, _in_to religion?"

"I'd sure like to learn more about it."

"We have a great religion program, if you're that interested," Goza suggested. "That's what _white_ mages are required to take. Anyone's welcome, of course."

"Sounds fun. I'll have to sign up."

We returned to our room at the end of the day, exhausted but feeling pretty good. We had seen the entire school and even walked around the block.

"Too bad dinner isn't for another 30 minutes," Monique complained as we walked inside. "I'm pretty hungry."

"Me too," Goza agreed. "Hey, Anna, there's something on your desk."

I ran over to see that my dream had come true: Edward had answered me back!

"Who is it from?" Monique asked. "Is it from Guilbert?"

"Yes!" I answered, breaking the wax seal and reading hungrily as Monique continued to ask questions.

_You think I wouldn't write you back? __I wouldn't put it off for the world! But I understand how busy you've been. Metis and Roland told us about the 's it like? Have you made any friends yet? What classes are you taking? You can get extra credit to come and see us if you take a music class, you know. _

_We've stopped in Damcyan for a few days, to visit family and maybe do a show. I wish there was some way that you could be here for it; we're all going to miss you. Like I said: I have a lot of friends—especially here in Damcyan, where I grew up—but you're special._

_There's a lot left that I'd like to say, but it doesn't seem right to say it in a letter. Now that you're really my girlfriend, I feel that I should tell you face-to-face. But then, maybe we should get to know each other a little better first. We have only known each other a few days, after all. _

_--Edward._

I must have read the letter three times over, absorbing everything he wanted to know, while Goza chastised Monique for being nosey.

"He's so adorable," I siged, reading it over once more.

"What all did he say?" Monique asked.

"He'd like to know how I'm doing here so far," I answered, incinerating the letter in my palm.

"Why did you do that?" Goza asked.

"It has his real name on it; it's private," I answered, dusting the ashes into a wastebasket beside my bed.

"You know who's _really_ adorable?" Goza asked me. "_You_ are."

"Thank you," I said with a sweet and unsuspecting smile.

"Have you ever worn make-up before?" she asked suddely.

"Did you meet my father at all?"

"Just a little bit of eyeliner and some eyeshadow—let's try it," Goza insisted.

"…On _me_? Really?"

"And lipstick and blush; definitely blush," Monique added from across the room, opening some of her desk drawers and pulling out several cases of different make-up.

"We'll just have to call it a full makeover," Goza concluded.

"….._Really_?!"

"Totally, Anna. You'll love it," Monique assured me, examining palettes of eyeshadow and blush, shaking her head doubtfully, and returning them to their respective cases.

"Monique and I take a comsetology class together," Goza explained. "Putting on make-up is fun, but knowing how to do it really well is even better."

"You should take the class with us," Monique added. "A lot of people think it sounds like a sissy class, but it's a lot of hard work. You can really appreciate it when you're done. Plus, homework is usually buying make-up for class."

"Sounds pretty fun to me. I'll have to remember that one when I pick my class list," I agreed.

When the dinner bell rang and everyone flooded back into the cafeteria, we three came in the first wave of people. For the first time in my life, I was actually wearing make-up and it felt great. For my eyes, my friends had selected a light shade of brown that looked nice with my red outfit and seemed to make my blue eyes stand out; my eyeliner was a darker brown with just a little glitter in it so that it made my eyelids sparkle. The lipstik, gloss, and pale blush were all in shades of light red and pink. Somehow, it made my skin look rosier and warmer than ever before.

So I walked into the cafeteria that night feeling like a star. Every red mage at the window table stopped to stare at me again and this time I had the audacity to stare them back. Life was simply _great_!

"You certainly seem to like your new look," Goza noted halfway through dinner.

"I feel glamorous for the first time in my life," I agreed. "Not just cute, not just pretty, not just beautiful: I feel drop dead _gorgeous_! This is so great, I don't know how to say it."

"You don't need to. We're happy that you love it so much," Monique smiled.

"I've got to take cosmetology with you," I said decidedly. "But I do feel kinda bad for messing up the lipstick…"

"It's color-stay," Monique informed. "The gloss does wear off after a few bites, but the stick won't. It's a new formula; it lasts for hours."

"Really? That is fantastic! I love make-up!" I answered, taking another bite of cheesy lasanga.

"So we can see," said a voice behind us. We all turned around to see a bunch of trashy red mages hoovering above us. The leader of the bunch certainly didn't seem to have taken cosmetology; her face had practically been plastered over with gaudy, noncomplementary colors. It looked like she was wearing a mask.

"What do you want, Mel?" Monique demanded. "Quit liking the best table in the cafeteria, decided you needed ours too?"

Mel ignored her and focused on me. "Why are you hanging out with these losers?" she asked. "You should be hanging out with _us_ reds. We're your class; it's where ou belong."

I snorted a laugh at Mel. "Why would I want to hang out in a dumpster with trash like you? You may be my class, but I don't need to stand 100 yards away to know that I _don't_ belong with you. Now get lost; I'm eating."

Mel seemed confused at first, and then utterly disbelieving. "Did you just _snub_ me? Nobody snubs_ me_!"

"We'll I do."

"Oh, you have no idea who you are dealing with, sister. I am the red mage class president, and you have to do what I say when I say it!"

"On which planet?"

By now, Mel and her yelling had caught a lot of attention. I didn't really care though; she was just calling a lot of attention to herself, and I was going to stand firm and calmly deflect whatever she said. When everyone started laughing at her for losing this fight, it was going to be her fault. As it was, she was lowering her voice and trying a new tactic.

"We reds are the coolest group in the school. Not only do we look better and have better stuff, but our magic has a better range _and_ we're stronger. Don't you want to be a part of that?"

"I _am_ a red mage," I agreed, demurely sipping my milk.

"So come and sit with us," Mel insisted. "You're better than these people. Don't sit with _them_."

"I think I'll stay right here, thanks."

"How would you like the hottest, richest guys in the city drooling for you?"

"That sounds really gross."

"If you come and hang with us, they'll adore you. You can date, like, two or three and they won't be able to get enough of you."

"I've got a boyfriend."

"So what? You're a red mage now; he'll understand. We can't be held responsible for being so hot and magnetic—unlike _some_," Mel explained, the last comment directed at Monique. Now I was a little angry.

"Go away," I demanded. "I'm not interested. Life is way too short to spend it with slimy people like you, Mel."

Once again, Mel changed her tactic. "Fine," she said in a hoity-toity tone. "We don't want you anyway. No one who hangs out with the loser classes is allowed to hang out with us."

"Great. So you'll stay away from me from now on, right?"

Mel snorted at me. Her answer was probably no; from now on, she'd give me all the hell she could.

"Let's go, girls," she commanded her army of followers and they all walked back to their own table at last. If she thought that excluding me from the club was a surefire way to make me jealous, she hadn't gotten my point yet.

The rest of the cafeteria had come over to watch the scene; until me, no one had ever really challenged Mel before, so it caused quite an uproar.

"Brace yourself," Goza warned me. "You're going to be _very_ popular."

Not bad, for my first day alone.

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Author's Notes…

Mel is based on Regina George, from _Mean Girls_, by the way. And Anna isn't intent on tacking _any_ of her flack.

The name Goza means "rejoice" in Spanish, by the way.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

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So, going into my first term at Sparrow's Wing Academy, I offically had two best friends, an enemy with an army, a beau who couldn't help me, and an expectant fanclub.

Mel posed more of an obstacle than I wanted to admit, especially after all the horrible things that Daddy had said. But I wasn't going to let that slight intimidation get me down or scare me away from my goal. Mel was going _down_.

Although I firmly decided not to let Daddy know.

Part of me really wanted to venture down to the west courtyard, where the reds hung out and suposedly did all kinds of nasty things while no one was watching. My friends, my fanclub, and even Edward all cautioned me to stear clear.

_People such as__ the red mages you've described can't be healthy,_ he warned in a letter he sent. _Be very careful; they may begin to look more and more fun, the more you stick close to them. Even if you're only doing it to annoy them._

Edward had a point, but I convinced myself that he was just as worried as everyone else and that nothing terrible would happen to me beyond a few bad burns or frostbite. I was pretty sure that I was too proud to be tempted by any of them.

But it wasn't the Reds who frightened me. On my first trip to the western courtyard, the number of dragoon squires gave me the willies. The boys were big and tall, and very muscular; any one of them could have easily snapped me in half like a twig if he so chose. Their armor came in dark purple and dark green, the color of the scales of the legendary wind drakes, and it was very impressive. It almost made them seem attractive.

_Almost_ made them seem attractive. Their faces seemed icky, and every one of them had stringy unwashed hair—nothing at all like my sweet Edward.

I stayed for a minute, trying not to look too surprised at what I saw—for I had heard enough—and then turned to leave, thankfully unapproahced by anyone.

But Mel caught me on my way to the library later that day.

"I saw you today in the courtyard. Why didn't you stay?" she asked demurely.

"'Cause I didn't want to," I answered stoically.

"You should have stayed. I could hook you up with someone," she suggested suggestively.

"No thank you. I told you already, I've _got_ a boyfriend."

"You _can_ have two boyfriends, you know. It's not illegal."

"But it's wrong."

Mel scoffed, and then made a serious mistake. "Don't be such a bitch."

It was a blur, born of a sudden, blazing hot fury that I had never known before, but I spun around and slapped Mel across the face. She yelped and stumbled back, her bright, caked-on rouge smeared over her cheek and nose, and my own hand painted bright pink with the stuff. We were both panting: she from shock, and I from coming down from a huge adreinaline rush.

"I'm not a bitch!" I thundered at her. "_Never_ call me that!"

Of course, the action had attracted the attention of everyone in the hall, including a few teachers, and everyone seemed awed with my reaction for one reason or another. Around me, I could hear other girls whipsering.

"She just slapped Mel in the face!"

"That's awseome!"

"'Bout time someone hit her."

"I'm just sorry it wasn't me."

"Don't want to cross _her_; today it's a slap in the face, but tomorrow, it could be Blizzaga."

"I'd like to see Mel show her face in the cafeteria tonight."

"Beaten by the new girl; ouch."

"Think they'll fight?"

"If they do, I sure hope that the new girl wins."

"I know; I really like her."

The comments flying around me felt empowering. I felt like I could, in fact, tackle Mel to the ground and reduce her to a bloody pulp without getting a scratch myself. The teachers, however, didn't find it so thrilling. One of them, a stately blonde white mage, appraoched me, and another one went after Mel.

"Perhaps we should remove this to the headmistress' office," the blonde suggested.

At last, I felt a surge of panic. If there was one thing I hadn't wanted to do, it was get in trouble with headmistress Tiffany. What was ultimately worse, she would probably insist on letting my parents know. Mama, I wasn't so worried about; but what would Daddy do? Who cares if I fought back and decidedly won? He certainly wouldn't.

Nonetheless, I allowed the white mage to escort me away, with the other white partially dragging Mel behind.

Tiffany was naturally surprised to see me in her office, and apparently not so much to see Mel. She appraised the two of us for a moment, and the sighed and shook her head.

"I had wondered what a sweet girl like you was doing here, Anna," she said, "but as soon as I saw Mel, a lot of questions suddenly answered themselves."

"Really?" I asked.

"Trust me, dear, Melanie and I go back a _long_ way," Tiffany answered, glaring at the other girl and her smeared make-up.

"What exactly happened?" she asked, mostly to me.

"She called me a bitch," I explained.

"And then _she_ hit me!" Mel interjected, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"Well good; it serves you right," Tiffany scolded. "It's thanks to that nasty mouth of yours that Rosa Farrel is leaving next week, too. I only wish that charming little girl were as bold as Anna; if she were, maybe she could stand to stay here a while longer."

I remembered what Goza and Monique had said before about Rosa being run out of the school by the Reds and wondered for a moment about it.

"However, as earned as it was, I can't leave eitehr action without punishment," Tiffany mused. "I'll have to give you both detention, and I'm going to write to your parents about this."

Mel scoffed again. "Feh; my parents won't care anymore. They're so totally used to it, they'll probably just toss the letter into the fire."

"No matter; I'm writing them anyway. Go with professor Laura, Mel; she can find something for you to do," she commanded, gesturing to the red-headed white mage who had dragged her to the office. Mel sulkily followed her out of the room, and at last her foulness was gone.

"You, Anna, I don't know what to do with; I don't really want to punish you—actually, I'm quite proud of you for fighting back."

"If you please, ma'am, is there anyway that you can only write to my mother and _not_ my father? If he finds out about this, he's going to pull me out," I requested.

"I don't know about that," Tiffany said calmly. "It's unfair, even if it is easier."

"Yeah, I know…"

"Well, so long as you have to be punished for hitting someone, I suppose that I'll let you pick your punishment. Just don't tell anyone else, okay?"

I knew exactly how I wanted to spend my detention.

"Can I tutor Rosa Farrel until she goes away?"

Tiffany eyed me quizzically. "…Beg pardon?"

"I'd like to be Rosa's tutor until she leaves. It sounds like she could use a friend who knows how to talk back to Mel," I explained.

"Well, she's due to return to the castle in 10 days. Most of her things are already packed, and she's already withdrawn from most of her classes. There isn't much left for her to do here but have her mother fill out some paperwork," Tiffany explained.

"I know, but I'd really like to do this. Just because she has no classes doesn't mean that there isn't anything for her to learn."

Tiffany nodded. "Yes, I suppose that you're right. I'll send for her this evening; is there anywhere in particular that you would like to meet?"

"How about the east courtyard? It's as far away from the Reds as you can get."

"Very well. I'll have some things for you two set when you arrive. How does 6:00 sound? I know it's during dinner, but Rosa often eats by herself anyway. It's very sad…"

"She won't be alone tonight."

Tiffany smiled, her heart warmed by mine. "You are a very good person, Anna Faraxhae. Thank you."

Having been absent from my little adventure, Goza and Monique were more than a little surprised by what had happened.

"This whole thing has shown a lot of favoritism on your side," Goza remarked thoughtfully. "Even though Mel totally deserves to get grilled and _you_ should get, like, a medal or something, all the Reds are going to complain that you're a teacher's pet."

"And that should bother me?" I asked nonchalantly. "They can't say anything to upset me."

"Except call you a bitch," Monique pointed out. "Even I've got to say that you need to be a little more careful. And I _hate_ being careful. So, what are you going to do with Rosa?" Monique asked.

"I'm not sure, exactly. I'd like to just talk with her. It sounds like she's really lonely."

"She is," Goza agreed. "Monique and I have tried to befriend her before, but she's very shy and nervous around other people."

"It's all because of how the Reds have terrorized her since she came the other year," Monique added angrily. "Quite frankly, the kid's a lot spunkier than we give her credit for; she's stuck them out for three years, after all. A lesser girl would have run home crying to her mommy and daddy after two days."

"From what we understand, she used to be a pretty hardly kid. Like we said before, she's got a couple of friends up there at the castle—guy friends, always looking out for her, like older brothers."

"Yes, I remember you telling me about them," I recalled.

"I've talked to them before. One of them is a dragoon, but he's not half bad; actually, he's a lot more decent than the others. (He's got a lot of potential to be a great leader; he isn't icky like the boys in the western courtyard.) The other's a dark knight squire, and we actually talked the other month about Rosa and her problems with the Reds. He said that he'd like to have a few minutes alone with Mel and her top lackeys, and maybe beat some sense into them. He also seems like a good guy, but I think he takes Rosa a little too seriously."

"Doesn't just want to be her big brother, eh?" I suggested.

"Oh, neither of them _just _want to be her big brother," Goza insisted. "But they're very proud of her for sticking it out for so long. All the same, they're glad that she's coming home."

"I'd like to meet them," I mused. "They sound pretty nice. And the dragoon guy sounds like a refreshing change from what I've seen. I'll have to ask Rosa about them when I see her tonight."

I went on my way to the eastern courtyard fairly early to meet my new charge. I was on pins and needles to finally see her, and excited to be able to help her. Part of me wanted give her a big hug and tell her that everything was going to be alright, that Mel was just a bully and that she would eventually get what was coming to her, but I pushed all those thoughts out of my head. Even if she was a victim and deserved pity, it didn't mean that I was the one meant to administer it.

The courtyard was lit with paper lanterns, and a stone table had been moved to the center of the space with two wicker chairs on either side. There was a basket set on the table, and a young girl, perhaps a year younger than myself, carefully removing the contents and arranging them on the table. She didn't seem to hear me approach, so I knocked lightly on the doorframe to get her attention. She looked up, surprised, and perhaps slightly nervous.

"Rosa?" I asked.

"Yes," she answered slowly. "Are you Anna?"

"I am," I answered, coming closer to shake her hand. "I've heard a lot about you from the headmistress and from my friends. I'm pleased to meet you."

Rosa eyed me suspiciously with intense brown eyes. "You mean the other Reds?" she demanded.

"No; none of them are my friends. My friends are Goza and Monique, they live down the hall from you in room 304."

"Oh…"

Rosa still wasn't sure what to make of me. In the firelight, I could see why the Reds had decided to target her. She had a fairy-like figure and fine, feminine features. Her hair was naturally perfect platinum blonde, and her big brown eyes were kind, gentle, and sweet as a butterfly. Her fair skin was dotted with paling freckles that threatened to fade completely in due time.

Poor sweet Rosa was a classic regulation hottie if there ever was one: the kind of perfect girl with perfect skin that never blemished, perfect hair that would look great even if it was un-brushed, and a carriage that required no make-up, jewelry, or any other kind of accessory to make it look good. Rosa came perfect; the Reds did not. So they mercilessly attacked this innocent beauty out of jealousy.

Innocence: the most important thing that Rosa had, that the Reds would never have again. Why did that make it all the more tantalizing to them? It was _their_ fault, after all.

I didn't blame Rosa in the least for being nervous around me. But it wasn't going to stop me from convincing her that I was a friend. I turned to the basket and began unpacking things.

"I had heard about you a few days ago from my friends," I mentioned. "You sound like you could have used a friend or two. Why didn't you talk to them?"

"I've got friends," Rosa insisted quietly. "Cecil and Kain understand; I don't think the others would, exactly…"

"Your friends from the castle? They sound nice too, from what they've told me. I guess I don't really have much to say about anything; all that I know is stuff I've heard from my friends."

"You've only been here a few days."

"Why wouldn't they understand? We've all been picked on and bullied before. I came here to get _away_ from the people who were bullying me."

"Sorry to hear that. You slapped Mel in the face today; who would want to pick on you?" Rosa asked, perplexed.

"People who think that I'm either no good or too good. I've gotten used to it. They're all just big dumb bullies, when you get right down to it. And bullies just need to be stood up to, that's all."

"You know how they say that all bullies only bully people because it makes up for something they're missing?" Rosa asked. "Like, they only do those things for attention, or because it makes them feel stronger because they feel weak?"

"I have; from what I've seen, it's pretty true," I answered.

Rosa gazed off into one of the lanterns. "I don't think it's totally true," she informed. "I think that some bullies are mean just because they like to be mean. The same kind of good feeling, of success and happiness that nice people find in helping others, some people find in hurting others. That's where evil people come from."

"Wow… That's really deep and… kind of scary, actually."

"I've had a lot of time on my own to meditate on these things."

The table finally set, I sat down I one of the chairs. "My father would say that such thoughts can make you stronger," I commented. "He has this belief in anger and revenge that sometimes confounds us all. Sometimes, it's downright scary."

"My mother would have him for breakfast," Rosa answered, her tone threatening a laugh. "She believes in exactly the opposite; and she _never_ loses an argument."

"Neither does my father."

At last, Rosa smiled and sat down. "So, you're going to tutor me? In what?"

"Any spells you need practice with? I've mastered all the white spells in the –A level."

"No, I'm good on all of those as well."

"Then how about self defense? You'd never have to worry about bullies like Mel again, if you could defend yourself."

"You'd teach me? I had always wanted to be an archer—I'm pretty good with a bow, but I want to get better."

"Then you'll be the best darned archer that Baron's ever seen," I said resolutely.

That first evening was splendid. We ate and talked about our friends and our families, each with their own sets of unique problems. As satisfied as Rosa seemed when she and I parted ways, I felt like I had had my own fill of company as well. I felt like perhaps I wasn't so alone.

When I arrived back in our room, Goza and Monique hadn't returned from dinner yet. It was the perfect time to write a letter to Edward, explaining what had happened. I had only been writing for a short time when my two friends arrived back, filled with questions.

"How did she look? Did she seem okay?" Goza asked.

"She was fine; once she opened up, she became one of the most interesting people in the school," I answered.

"What did you talk about?" Monique asked.

"Our families, mostly; and also people who like to hurt other people for sheer entertainment. Apparently, she's done a lot of thinking about that. Rosa's very deep and brilliant. We'll be missing a terrific white mage."

The next night when Rosa and I met in the eastern courtyard, she brought a bow and several arrows, and I brought a target. Together, we practiced for almost two hours before we began to tire and decided to return to our rooms. And so it continued for a week and a half; by the last night, we were good friends.

"I'll miss you, Anna," she told me. "You ought to come visit us at the castle sometime."

"I'd get lost," I insisted. The castle still intimidated me; it was too big, and it filled me with fear. I didn't want to look like I didn't want to come and see her where she lived—I truly did wish the castle didn't scare me so—but she seemed to understand.

But we were both very sad to be parting. The morning she left, Goza and Monique both came with me to see her off.

"My friends said that they would come to get me at the western courtyard," she explained.

"Why?" Monique asked. "Won't the Reds—"

"Not while Kain's around," Rosa answered serenely. This time, she wasn't so afraid of them; her best friend was going to take care of her. The four of us made our way to the western courtyard, hoping that the two boys had beaten us there.

One strange boy was there, dressed in street clothes and trying to ignore the slimy leers of the red mages around him. His shoulder-length hair appeared at first to be platinum blonde, but upon coming closer, we saw that it was really the color of new snow. He wore a gold medallion around his neck carrying the signet of the dark knights, but even then something about Cecil Harvey shone brightly.

(Not that I knew his name at the moment…)

Miraculously, the Reds didn't bother us beyond a few stares of contempt, mostly aimed at Rosa and myself. But they daren't mess with either of us while the serious, powerful, and incredibly attractive young knight was there, judging them on how well they treated his best friend. When he saw us, he gave the four of us a friendly smile and ran up to greet us.

"Rosa, you look really happy today," he noted.

"I feel happy," she answered. "I have friends who came to see me off."

He looked the rest of us over, a little surprised. "But she's a red mage," he pointed out, casting an accusing finger at me.

"No, she's my best friend here," Rosa insisted. "This is Anna, Monique, and Goza," she introduced, and each of us nodded to her friend; Goza gave a small curtsey.

"Well, if you've taken care of Rosa and made her so happy, then you're a friend of mine. My name is Cecil. I'm sorry I was so rude to you, Anna," he apologized, extending his hand to me. "We've had a lot of trouble with the red mages lately and I… never mind."

"It's okay," I said, shaking his hand. "It happens a lot around here. I'm getting used to it."

"Cecil, where's Kain?" Rosa asked. "He said that he would be here."

"Your mother's expecting a final correspondence from the headmistress; Kain's gone to get it," Cecil explained.

"He doesn't want to see you," interjected one of the nearby Reds. "He's not really here at all, is he."

Something about Cecil suddenly changed and he turned on the other girl with a fierceness that frightened us, but didn't seem to bother Rosa very much.

"Shut up! You've caused enough trouble already," he snapped angrily. The other girl shrunk away from him, just as startled as the rest of us.

"We should go," the boy murmured, glancing around the courtyard at the mass gossip he had generated. "The sooner we get you away from these tramps, the better."

"That was a little mean," Rosa countered.

"It's what they are; and I hate to lie."

Rosa didn't answer, but she seemed to agree.

"You guys," she said to us, "it's been a wonderful week. Thanks for being my friends."

"Maybe we'll see each other around the city sometimes," Goza suggested. "We'll all miss you."

"I'll miss you too. I'll write you all, okay?"

"We'll look for your letters," I promised. I don't know why I felt so accomplished in that moment. I felt like I was watching a child of mine go off to college, even though she was only one year younger than I. She was going to be just fine now, and for that I felt great.

What would I have done differently, if I knew at that time what I know now? If I knew that I would never see Rosa again in person, I would have hugged her one more time; I probably would have conquered my fear of the castle's vastness to come and see her, too. If I had known then that I had just shaken hands with the soon-to-be savior of the entire planet, and the future king of Baron, would I have left it at that or dropped to my knees? And, if I had known how much they would both do for my sweet Edward, even though they didn't know his name yet, would I have wept for joy?

Oddly enough, I _would_ see Cecil once more, a few years later. But that's getting ahead of the story, now isn't it?

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Author's Notes…

I seriously need to finish this and FFC, because I've been accepted to college and I'm about to start pursuing a career in culinary management. It's more taxing than it probably sounds. It won't go on much longer, I think. Maybe 5 or 6 more chapters, if I keep this chapter length up. How long it will take me to get them all posted, however, is another matter entirely…


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

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Now that Rosa was gone, the Reds, still led by Mel, decided to turn their full attention on me. With the little white mage gone, they could devote all their energy on tearing _me_ down; and they could see that it would take all the energy they had left over from the dragoons to deal with me.

However, I stayed well within my ever-growing circle of friends and fans, who gave me more complements and words of empowerment than I had ever received in my life for anything else I had ever done. The complements influenced me far more than the jeering of the Reds, and the other girls never got a strong foothold into my emotions. As soon as the school year officially started, I was too busy with my school work to give them much attention: between my studies, cultivating my friendship with Monique and Goza, and letters from my family, Edward, and occasionally Rosa, I had no brain left for the Reds.

When they finally started leaving me alone, I was releaved. But when I realized that they were targeting other people in my place, I got fired up once again. My next confrontation with Mel came in the winter, when a lone black mage wandered into the training yard. It was fairly warn in the training yard and chilly in the halls; the girl meant no harm, but Mel seized the opportunity to engage me.

"Well, well, well, what's this? She sneered at the balck mage. "What do you think you're doing in here? It's a red mage-only area."

"I was cold," the black mage insisted. "It's so warm in here."

"Sucks to be you, then. See how fabulous it is to be a red mage?"

"That's not fair! Anyone's allowed in here," the other girl protested.

"So that's the way you want it? Maybe a taste of Firaga will get your ass moving _and_ keep you warm, huh?" Mel threatened.

The black mage glared at her. "How about Blizzaja to freeze _yours_?"

I was lifting wieghts nearby, conveniently within earshot of the argument, and decided that it was time to end it.

"Mel, why don't you just shut up and go back to your javelin?" I suggested snarkily. "Not that all the practice in the world would do _you_ any good."

"Stay out of this, Faraxhae; this isn't your battle," Mel snapped back.

"Sweetie, maybe you should just go," I suggested to the black mage. "It's not worth your time or MP."

She nodded defiantly. "Maybe you're right, Anna," she agreed. "After all, we all know that if anyone can deal with this foul-mouthed monster, it's you." She turned and walked back out the door, rendering the whole goggle-eyed population of the room Red. Mel sneered at me and stormed to my side once the black mage was gone.

"Why is it that _everyone_ listens to _you_ all of a sudden?" she demanded. "They used to listen to _me_! Everyone did what I said as soon as I said it! And then _you_ show up and you're all, what, queen of the school or something? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Apparently, I'm my father's child," I answered unhelpfully, still focused on my weights. "Darn it, you made me loose count; was that rep seven or eight…?"

"You're not even listening to me!" she screamed, once again coming to her wit's end with my antics. "You're such a bitchy little monster!"

"Oh please. Being called a bitch stopped bothering me _months_ ago. And, for the record, I _was_ listening to you and I gave you a really good answer."

Mel screamed a frustrated battle cry-like scream and stamped her foot on the ground. "Get out of the training yard! I hate you!" she thundered.

"Feh; there are better places to be than letting you scream my ears off," I scoffed, setting the weights down and heading out the door.

After that, I suddenly didn't see as much of Mel as before. Actually, the other Reds picked up a nasty habit of following me around, trying to engage me.

"So, Anna, what are you doing after class today?" one might ask.

"None of your business, but I was going to study for my math test tomorrow," I'd answer.

"Can we come too?"

"What are you gonna wear?"

"Can we bring our boyfriends?"

"You can come study in the western courtyard with us; the dragoon squires are _great_ study partners."

After a few days of this, it occurred to me what they were doing: Mel's reign of terror was officially over since her unsightly temper tantrum in the training yard, and the Reds wanted _me_ to be their new queen bee. Out of curiosity, I wrote to my mother, Edward, and Rosa about it to see what they thought of it. My mother wrote:

_It's a marvel that some people can be so shallow and live as long as these girls. You've been fighting against them, haven't __you? Can't they see that you aren't anything like them? If anything, you're their enemy! And yet they want _you_ to be their leader? While I'm sure the sentiment is flattering, it only serves to prove how idiotic and superificial they are._

The sentiment wasn't flattering at all; it was disgusting, and it made my flesh crawl. From her letter, Rosa seemed to agree on this point:

_Stay away from those nasty Reds, Anna! I've seen it happen to other new girls before: they think the Reds are _so_ glamorous and carefree, and they turn over to their side. I've even seen some girls change their colors to hang out with them. They're just a bunch of dumb bullies, like you said. If you become their queen, what will anything you taught me matter?_

And, finally, Edward wrote sounding very concerned:

_My love, I haven't known you for very long, but I know you enough to know that you _don't _belong with that trash. The Anna Faraxhae that I'm familiar with would probably turn around and slap them all across the face, maybe even with a Fira spell thrown in for emphasis. On account of your superior brains, heart, and staggering beauty, you deserve to be the queen of something far better—perhaps a whole kingdom, if the idea suits you?_

The Anna Faraxhae that he knew had become a litle too savvy with the rules to use anything bigger than Fire, on pain of detentions. His idea that I could be the queen of an entire kingdom was at first outlandish—it made me laugh, when I first read it. In due time, I would change my mind.

But the overall concensus was that the Reds were plastic, stupid, and so far beneath me that they weren't worth my time.

However, with all the things that had happened and the several letters home—not just by my hand, but by headmistress Tiffany's whenever Mel and I wound up in her office—why hadn't Daddy stormed back to Baron, brushing past Liam and the other Summoners in Mist and even Mist herself in order to bring me back kicking and screaming to Kaipo? Once again, I wrote to my mother to ask her.

_Everything that we've gotten from Sparrow's Wing Academy, I've censored before I let your father anywhere near__ it. Heaven help Mona Tiffany if your father found out that she gave you detention, and don't even get me started on Mel and her mouth. Your father would kill them both first, and then drag you back here and lock you in the basement,_ she wrote back.

Good old Mama. She could always make things work out right for me and everyone else. As long as I had her, I was relatively safe—safer even than with my overly protective father, who would, indeed, lock me in the basement if he thought that it would keep people from insulting his precious proginy.

The rest of that winter went by uneventfully, actually comfortably, minus the Reds and their sudden and unwanted interest in me. After a while, they finally got the hint and began to leave me alone. But, to my surprise, when I looked around at them, they seemed a little more like me. Their make-up wasn't so heavy, and actually looked coordinated and, dare I say it, _nice_. They also seemed to be wearing their skirts longer, their shirts cut higher, and were acting more pleasant to the rest of us as well.

So perhaps I did some kind of good for them, even though I didn't really mean to. I've sometimes wondered what would have happened to me and to them if I had taken advantage of this and became their queen after all. Considering things that happened to me the way they happened, I think that it's been better for everyone that I stayed out of their group.

A good and happy deal of that winter was spent in coorespondence with Edward. He had been adamant about his early letters, insisting that we didn't know each other very well and should fix that by writing to each other; we wrote letters back and forth at least once a day, and we learned all sorts of things about each other. Edward was all about his music, a focused and dedicated student of the unusual magic that he and his teacher practiced, though he was still too unpracticed to use it very well. Bard magic, he explained, could be used to fight off monsters, and Maestro Roland did this very well with his own harp.

_Frankly, I'm not suited for battle anyway,_ he wrote once. _I'm terrified of monsters; usually, I run and hide with Shika and the twins on the rare chance that we get attacked and leave the fighting to the professionals. The grils are itching for a day when they can stand and fight back too, but monsters scare me. I wish that I could conqure that fear, but I don't know how._

I didn't blame him for being afraid of monsters. They were frightening varments, to be sure; the fear was simply rational, even for someone as old as Edward.

_I'd really like to change that fear, even if it's due,_ he had insisted. _By now, certainly I'm strong enough to beat something on my own. Someone as bold and brave as you deserves a man who can stand and fight off his own monsters, don't you think? If I can't do it myself, how could anyone expect me to take care of a wife or children?_

Even if he had his fears, he was very mature about them. He seemed to be standing on an unseen wall, right on the edge of being a man, but he wasn't sure how to cross that barier yet. He was determined to cross it himself, without anyone holding his hand or watching his back for monsters, but right now it still daunted him. And if he thought that I had already crossed the barier into adulthood, with my quick temper and deep-rooted morals, he was wrong. I felt that he was closer to crossing it than I. I had grown wise enough to hold my tongue and stay my hand and spells, but I was enjoying the noncommitment of youth _far_ too much to grow up completely yet.

Truly, I wouldn't completely grow up until it was pretty much too late for it to matter. As for Edward, his journey into real manhood wouldn't begin until after my death.

He really seemed to like how flippantly bold I was, especially when he compared me to himself: I was all fire and attitude, but he was passive and mild like a brook of cool water. But, for all my attitude, I was grounded and solid in what I held to be true. He himself hadn't been too interested in religion before he met me—before, he didn't have one at all. But our letters suddenly inspired him to go and look into it. I don't know if he ever really understood any of it during my life, but he did the favor of being educated for me and my family. On occasion, he even came to us with a very good question that even Daddy had to meditate on for a while. Mama and I were very proud of him, but Daddy never knew what to make of it.

_This summer, you ought to come and meet my family, in Damcyan,_ Edward suggested late in February. _We're in the north now, but we're coming back to the south soon. Our first stop is Mysidia, and then it's a straight shot through Devil's Road to Baron! We may see each other again in as little as a month and a half!_

The prospect was so exciting that I began jumping up and down as I read, squealing like a little child and causing my roomates to roll their eyes at me. I spent that whole March willing the days to go by faster and trying not to let my excitement get the better of my school work. Every day when I found a new letter on my desk, I plotted the course that the troupe was taking on a map in one of my textbooks and watched them inch closer and closer to the oddly dragon-shaped island of Mysidia.

(If only we had known how important that island and its shape would be in years to come…)

"What do you think you'll do when he gets here?" Goza asked me.

"Introduce him to you guys, first off," I answered quickly. "He's wanted to meet you since I first told him that I had friends."

"Do you think you'll kiss him?" Monique asked.

"Don't bother me with details like that; I don't know what will happen. What if _he_ decides to kiss _me_?" I countered. "And besides, I just can't wait to see him. It's been months since we've seen each other, and I've missed him very much. I wonder if he's grown any taller?"

Monique sighed. "It'll be nice to meet another Damcyani. I haven't seen anyone from home in a long time. I wonder if I'll recognize him? I mean, we've been seeing him on stage for a few years now, but never up close. Maybe we went to grade school together… But I think I would remember knowing someone named Guilbert Christian; it's a very unique name."

Damcyan had its own magic academy, so most of the country's mages went to school there instead of traveling all the way to Baron. Monique had the special exception of having beloved family in the city who were willing to pay for her education. Even for mine and Goza's company, she often struck me as a bit lonely because of this. But, as hard as she tried, she couldn't think of anyone she knew sharing Edward's penname.

A few warm days into April, a letter appeared on my desk in the morning before class. I tore it open and read feverishly:

_Come to the__ North courtyard! There's a surprise waiting for you!_

Oh, this could only mean one thing! I gathered up my two friends and we dashed down to the courtyard. My heart was beating so loud, I thought everyone could surely hear it; there were few other times my heart beat so hard in my chest. By the time we burst into the courtyard my chest ached and my throat hurt from breathing so hard.

The only other person in the yard was a boy of my own age. He was dressed all in scarlet red, from his red feathered hat to his pants, say for his brown leather boots, well-worn from traveling. His pale blonde hair shone in the sunlight, and when he turned to see us his wonderful eyes sparkled—though without the bright lipstick, I almost didn't recognize my dear Edward. And, indeed, he had gained a few inches since our last meeting. And his smile—my heart nearly broke in twain.

Those next few seconds were a happy, dizzy blur as we flew into each others arms. He caught me and spun me around in the air, laughing as joyously as I. After a few turns, he set me back down and just held me close. The whole world seemed to disolve around me. There was nothing else: just I and him.

"I've missed you so much, Edw—Gui—I, uh…" I stammered. I had almost spoken his real name in front of people I had forgotten were there! Embarassed, I started to laugh nervously.

He laughed understandingly. "I've missed you too." He took a moment to look me over, savoring every second, and caressed my face; it felt like he was casting tiny Thuder spells into my jaw.

"You look beautiful, Anna."

"And you've gotten taller," I commented. Before, he had been right at my eye level. Now, I found myself gazing up into his clear, crystaline, blue eyes. He rested his forhead against mine; and just kept looking at me.

"…May I?" he asked.

"Be my guest."

That first kiss was one of those perfect moments of my life—most of them involved Edward in some way. He put his lips against mine, and it wasn't awkward or stange; the contours of our faces fit together perfectly, like a puzzle, pieces that were made for one another.

Together we formed a pillar of bright red flame—a love that could _never_ burn out. Together, we would withstand not only my father but death itself. We would be indestructable, the blazing fire of our love burning down barriers and forging new friendships wherever it went.

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Author's Notes…

OMG, I'm back! XD

So, culinary school is pretty rad. Takes up a lot of my time, but it's all going tobe worth it one day. You know, culinary arts is apparently the fifth worst paying degree a college student can go for; the article I read about this in suggests that for a higher-paying job, go for a degree that involves a lot of math courses. Good thing I'm not in culinary for the money. XD

Perhaps a new chapter soon…? I wouldn't count on it, despite how juicey the story is getting. I'll update whenever I get around to it. I've got a lot to do… -.-0


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

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Once our romantic interlude concluded, I suddenly found myself embarassed—Monique and Goza were still there, completely forgotten but waiting good naturedly on me. My next order of business was clear: to introduce Edward to my friends.

"Guilbert," I said, remembering to use his penname this time, "these are my two friends that I told you about—this is Monique, and this is Goza."

"A pleasure, of course," he greeted them with a bow. "Any friend of Anna's _must_ be a friend of mine."

Goza smiled cheerily and shook his hand warmly, happy to finally meet the tallented harpist who also happened to be my beau. He extended his hand to Monique, but she didn't move. She wasn't ridged, but I got the impression that Edward somehow made her uncomfortable. They exchanged a look of surprise and he gasped.

"You're Damciani," he realized.

"Yes…" Monique answered slowly, almost warily.

"Why not at the academy in Damcyan?" he asked, attempting to make friendly conversation. She didn't answer; she began fidgeting, twiddling her fingers, and wouldn't look right at his face. He got the hint that she didn't want to talk to him and he turned back to me, taking me in his arms once more.

"I'd love to stay longer," he said sadly, "but I can't. They'll be missing me soon."

"You're not supposed to be here, are you," I guessed.

"I couldn't wait to see you," he insisted. "Not after all these months, now when you're _so_ close."

"It's just as well," I sighed. "If someone saw you here, we could all get in serious trouble."

"And I'd hate to keep you from your lessons," he added. "Can you get away sometime?"

"At night, after dinner," I answered. "After first semester, students can roam the city until 10 o'clock at night."

"Then it's a date?"

We would meet in the same courtyard after dinner that night, and would spend those next four hours with the rest of the troupe, who I also missed very much; and I had yet to thank Maestro Roland and Metis for telling Mama about Sparrow's Wing. Our plans were made quickly and Edward departed—but not before stealing one more kiss, of course.

As we walked back inside, the bells for class were beginning to toll—a 15 minute warning. The three of us hurried back to our room to collect our belongings.

"He's very handsome," Goza mentioned. "And very sweet to you—that's what's improtant."

"I know. Oh, it's just so good to see his face again. I can't believe how much I've missed him and all the others."

"The kiss was really sweet."

"It was our first."

"Aw! Isn't that romantic, Monique?

"…"

"Monique? Are you okay?"

The flirtatious, hopeless romantic was dead silent, still wringing her hands nervously. Her dark skin was a shade paler, as if she were sick, and she couldn't seem to look me in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time.

"I'm fine," she insisted.

What a horrible lie. But she didn't want to talk about it until we returned to our room.

"Hey, Goza? Can you leave the room for a moment?" she asked.

"Why?" Goza asked suspciously.

"I just nee dto talk to Anna alone for minute. It won't take long; it's _really_ important."

Goza looked concerned, but she took her things and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. As soon as she was gone, Monique sat down on the bed and sighed deeply.

"Anna, I'm sorry for the way I've been acting."

"Moniuqe, what's the matter? You can tell me," I insisted, sitting down beside her.

"It's about Guilbert…"

I made me just a little nervous to hear her say that. Was it possible that, upon seeing him up close, she had fallen in love with him too?

"Anna, do you know that Guilbert isn't his real name?"

"…Of course I do. How do you—"

"His name is Edward—Edward Christian von Moir."

Now I was even more nervous than before. Edward hadn't told me his surname; "for my own safety", he had insisted. Perhaps Monique really did know him from her childhood? Surely that _must_ be why…

"Anna… Edward isn't just a minstrel. He's… _a prince_."

"….._What_?"

"Yes: Edward is the dauphin—the crown prince of Damcyan."

I felt faint. All this time, all the letters, the kiss… And my Edward was the prince of an entire kingdom?

After a moment of feeling betrayed and a little used, my rational side kicked in. Of course he would have hidden his _true_ true identity from me. He was a very powerful person in the middle of the wilderness: the perfect target for anyone in the mood for a kidnapping and ransom. The fewer people knowing who and where he was, the better.

Being connected to him suddenly made me vulnerable. By keeping me uninformed, he was trying to protect me. And it was none of my business anyway. When the prince of a nation packs a few things and sets off to become a bard, there _must_ be a reason. Perhaps Edward was looking for something more than merely to learn bard magic. Perhaps his family was just was crazy as mine, and the troupe provided the same escape to him that Sparrow's Wing Academy did for me. But whatever the reason, he didn't have to tell me unless he wanted to, because it was _his_ beeswax, not mine.

But it made me very, _very_ curious.

All this flew through my head in a matter of seconds, and Monique remained silent, waiting ever patiently for me to process the news.

"I recognized him imediately in the courtyard," she said. "Up on stage, dressed like a _clown_, I never would have known it was him. I never would have guessed… _Why?_"

"Don't you know where he's been?" I asked.

"We all knew that the prince was abroad—traveling, their majesties told us; traveling the world, learning it's knowledge, meeting its people. They never told us that he was training to be a bard with a troupe of gypsies."

She sounded mildly disgusted with the idea, but many people don't like the idea of gypsies.

"The troupe is quite nice," I insisted.

"That doesn't matter. I thought prince Edward would be out doing something more… I don't know… dignified."

"It's a delicate and interesting craft he's learning, and he does it quite well. He loves music."

"In Damcyan, all royal children are inbued with a love of music. What makes him so special as to leave his duites to our kingdom to go play around in the wild?"

Monique's demand was valid enough. Edward _was_ a prince, after all; he had responsiblities to his kingdom, and he had been away from Damcyan for a long time. How many Damcyani people knew where he really was? The idea of him traveling and studying certainly was more easily excused than the idea of him playing in a gypsy band.

"Anna," she continued, "you know what will happen if he continues to court you? If he asks you to _marry_ him? Do you realize what that would mean?"

Oh. _That_ was a new idea.

"…I would be the queen…"

"Or at least a princess, as long as he remains a prince. But yes, that's the general idea. And he _really_ likes you. Anna," she said, taking my hands in her shaking ones, "he wants you to be his wife: our queen, the mother of our furture kings."

The idea was so broad. I thought of just being a queen was fairly simple; the idea of bearing the next generation of Damcyan's royalty was so deep, so profound. Monique didn't seem to know how to feel about this. She took this idea very seriously, that much was certain—one day, her best friend could be her queen. That was pretty cool, but also kind of awkward.

"…What should we do?" I asked.

"We _must_ keep this to ourselves. Just knowing who and where the prince is puts us both in danger. You must guard this secret with your life."

"Nothing could be easier."

"_Not even Goza._"

"I know," I agreed sadly.

"And you have to talk to him about this. He protected you by not telling you who he was; it's only fair that you let him know that he can't protect you in that way any longer."

That made sense. It would be strange and perhaps a little tense, but she was right: Edward's sheild was broken, and he needed to know so that he could find a new one.

Th school day dragged by slowly. I didn't know what to think anymore—Edward was finally here, and part of me didn't want to see him at all. Another part of me was nervous. What would I say? How was I supposed to tell him that his well-played bluff had been called? How would he react to that? Would he want anything to do with me after tonight?

I had never felt so insecure before. I tried never to let people manipulate my feelings—often I failed, but more often I prevailed. But Edward was different. My heart hung on what he would say to me tonight; if he dismissed me, for any reaosn, I just knew that I would be dead by morning.

Though, in retrospect, I'm not sure why I was so nervous. I had absolutely no reaon to be—Edward would never have dimissed me in a million eons. But still, it felt like I had uncovered an eath-shattering secret. A secret which, in my rather frazzled reasoning, maybe _should_ be punished by death.

When I came into the courtyard that night, Edward was already waiting there for me. I almost turned around and ran away, but he saw me before I could run. When he saw me he smiled, oblivious to the fact that I was no longer oblivious.

"Anna! You're here!" he exclaimed, overjoyed that I had arrived. Standing on the other side of the yard, he extended his hand and came forward several steps, expecting me to meet him at the middle. But all I could do was stand in the doorway, looking back at him blaknly. The joy on his face vanished, replaced with slight concern.

"Anna? Is something wrong?" he asked.

I looked away, staring straight down at the cobbled floor. I just couldn't bear to look at him anymore; but I heard him advance toward me quickly. In a matter of seconds he was standing before me, reaching for my hands.

"What's the matter? Dear one, please look at me," he pleaded. When I hesitated, he caressed my face and gently tilted my head back up until he could see my eyes again. I felt tears stinging my eyes, and I was still as dumb as stone.

"Have _I_ done something?" he asked.

"No, no!" I insisted, my voice returned at last. "You've done nothing wrong. I need to tell you…"

"Tell me what? What's happened?"

I took a deep breath. "…Edward, Monique recognized you. She knows who you are."

"Oh…" he sighed. "She knew… And she told you? That I'm a…"

"A prince?"

Now he lowered his eyes. "…Yes. It's true."

A breif silence passed.

"I've decieved you, Anna. I'm so sorry. I felt that you would be safer not knowing; I was only trying to protect you."

"I know, I know," I answered. "I understand."

"I've wanted to tell you so baldy in my letters; I always thought that you deserved to know, but—"

"It's your own business. If you felt it was better not to tell me, then maybe it was best after all. Anyway, I never asked."

"Are you angry with me? For deceiving you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. I forgive you."

He sighed, overwhelmingly relieved; I hadn'r realized how tense he had gotten.

"I suppose you have a few questions?" he guessed.

"If you don't mind answering just a few."

He nodded his head. "I'll explain everything. Come; the troupe is ying to see you."

He led me out of the courtyard and down the street, away from the school and itnto the crowds of people still filling the city. In a city as big as Baron, night is just as good a time to be out working as the day, and the nightlife was huming all around us. No one bothered to look our way—we were, for all intents and purposes, alone.

"So," I asked, "what are you doing here, exactly? With the troupe and all?"

"I'm studying."

"But why bard magic? Monique said that everyone in Damcyan is under the imrpession that you're studying in great schools all over the world."

"Oh, that; I see."

"She also mentioned that the royalty love music, though."

"Oh yes, it's true. We take our musical education _very_ seriously," Edward agreed. "But me… I don't know. They said that I had a gift. There are other children in the royal house—not my siblings, but cousins, and other relations—and they all play a variety of instruments. But all our teachers said there was something special about me. They used to say that I was a prodigy."

"Really?"

"I don't think it's true. And anyway, I never cared if I had some special gift that the other children didn't—I love music. Music is like my very blood; I just can't live without it. Of course, you're like the oxygen that keeps my blood flowing. I can't live without you either."

Golden. I had nothing to respond with but the broad, bashful smile his comment coaxed out.

"Of course, when my teachers proclaimed me to be a prodigy, they insisted that I be sent off to learn from only the _finest_ masters in the world," Edward continued. "My parents considered, interviewed different people around the world that the teachers suggested to them, talked with me about it. And in the end, we decided that it just wasn't right for me. Learning from those ridged, ancient old men—it would be taking the thing that I loved and taking all the art and beauty out of it, reducing it to nothing but math—_a thing_."

"I sort of feel the same way about how my father was teaching me magic," I added. "He always had to take the fun out of it. To him, it was always just another way to preserve his legacy—it was something that _had_ to be done, darn it. There wasn't enough time for it to be enjoyable."

"Exactly. It just had to be learned and spat back out again on command by a teacher who can't remember why he cares, right?"

"Wow. It's like you've known me my whole life. So, after all that, how on earth did you end up with the troupe?"

"They came through Damcyan one year. I took just one look at the kind of work they did and I thought, 'That's what I want to do. That's _perfect_.' Luckily, Mama and Papa are understanding and supportive. They allowed it—pretty happily too, now that I had figured out what to do with my talent. Though my old teachers certainly didn't approve.

"Of course, it put the people more at ease to think that I had really gone to study with a certified master. It's remained a well-kept secret among the nobility."

"So I uderstand from Monique. Is it dangerous?"

"Not really; we're never in one place for very long. Actually, the political beauty of this setup is that there's nowhere I could be safer. I'm the crown prince of Damcyan, the only child of the king and queen. There are plenty of people who are more than willing to get me out of the picture to make way for their own children."

"That's terrible!"

"I know. It's a pretty hostile environment. When I was a kid it was fun; the other children I studied with were my friends, playmates—one or two of them possibly candidates for my wife." He rolled his eyes at this. None of them had a chance now.

"But since I've grown up, it seems like they've become more like rivals. It's like one day we all looked up and realized that we were supposed to be comptitors. Some of us are still kind and friendly with one another; others, not so much."

"It must be frustrating. But with you so far away—and never in the same place for more than a few hours—it's not like they can find you."

"Mansions in forgein lands are _horrible_ hidding places for royalty. If a king wants to hide, his best bet is to work in a fish market for a few weeks. There aren't many rich men who willing to do this; they consider it degrading. I am not one of them."

"You're clever, and wise, then."

"Thank you, Anna."

"So, you returned home earlier this year. How did it go?"

"Well… It's different, that's for sure. And the competition has gotten more heated; every time I return, I find that the heat in the palace has risen just a few degrees. By the time I take the throne, it's going to be cooler out in the desert in the middle of August than in the palace. But then, what do you expect from the kingdom that guards the Fire crystal?"

Oh yes, I had nearly forgotten. Damcyan was one of the four priviledged kingdoms to protect the Crystals of Light. Mysidia, in the middle of the ocean, housed the Water crystal; in the northeast, Fabul guarded the Wind crystal; lastly, in the mountains to the northeast, Troia kept the Earth crystal. I had never really thought about the Crystals until just then, and I realized that Edward had a great extra burden to carry. To be in charge of something as volitile as one of the Crystals? And the Fire crystal, no less.

All his allusions in the past to fire suddenly made a lot more sense to me. He probably subconsciously found my affinity for Fire spells incredibly attractive, even though he was a retiring person.

"Do you _want_ to be the king?" I asked.

"Actually, I sort of can't wait. To tell you the truth, Anna, I don't think I've ever felt more prepared. When I was a child, the idea of ruling a country daunted me. I had no idea how I was supposed to do it all, especially when my father did it so well. It frightened me a little, actually. But all my traveling, it's brought me in touch with the world. I've seen its problems, met its people, learned its wisdom. My studies with this little band of traveling players has prepared me more for my future role as king than an entire lifetime lived in a palace."

"But what about your traveling?"

Edward sighed sadly. "Some good things have to end. But often that means the beginning of another good thing. I just wish that my time with the troupe could last a little longer… Anna, I'm turning 18 this year. I've been with the troupe since I was eight years old. We all discussed this when we visited my family. This is my last year with them."

I gasped. "No!"

"It's true."

"But what about your magic?"

"It's learned well enough. Besides, all I need it a harp, and I'll have music wherever I go. I don't need to be a traveling minstrel to have a use for music."

"What will you do after you've left?"

"Stick around Damcyan. It's been 10 years since I've lived in my own kingdom. I need to see what needs to be done, what my people need, what I can do for them. But with everything that I've learned from maestro Roland and the others, I can finally do all thses things _well_. I'm no longer afraid—now that I've conquored that fear, there's really no time to plateau. I have to keep moving forward with that."

"That's really deep."

"It happens, when you spend the better part of your life living with players. Do you have any summer plans?"

"Well, I've been considering taking summer school," I answered. "It robs me of a summer of opportunites, but I can graduate faster, and it looks good on a resumé. And anyway, they give us generous breaks during the summer."

"You must come and meet my parents," he said solidly. "I've already told them so much about you; they're dying to meet you. And your parents."

I laughed. "You want me to drag Tellah Faraxhae into a fine palace, filled with snobby superior nobles, and make him throw a temper tantrum and have a heart attack? Let's face, love, we both know that's what will happen."

"Your father would enjoy my father's company. They're both learned men of a certain age, and both in need of intelligent and colorful company. You're not the only one with an accentric father."

"Are they really anything alike?"

"Well, not really. But, knowing the two of them apart, I'd like to see what happens when you leave them alone in a library with a bottle of brandy."

I laughed again, harder this time. "I can't imagine what Daddy would do if he found out who you really are. I'm not sure whether he would give us his blessing or beat you to death. You know, he still doesn't know that you're courting me."

"A well-kept secret of your own?"

"Thanks to Mama. And yes, I'd love to come meet your family."

"My parents have extanded you an invitation to spend the whole summer with us, if you like. I can't tell you how overjoyed my mother would be if you agreed."

"Perhaps summer school can wait, then; there _will_ be other summers for it, after all. You've met my parents—I owe yours the courtesy of meeting them, at least."

"So it's a yes?"

"Let me write my mother first and ask if it's okay. I know my own parents are dyign to see me as well. I haven't been home since winter holiday."

"Tell them to come too."

"I will. I do still worry about my father, but Mama can handle him. And she'd love to meet your family too."

"You always have our invitation. Always."

And it was a good thing, too. In days to come, Damcyan and it's kind-hearted, loving royalty would become one of my last refuges and, eventually, my final resting place.

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Author's Notes…

Wow! Another chapter! Not bad. :)

Well, I have no idea if I'll be able to update again in a few days or a few months. In the meantime, we'll just keep the passage of time moving right along. Anna's time at Sparrow's Wing is going to last much longer than I had anticipated…


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11

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The troupe was well, and happy to see me again—even cranky Andrea enjoyed my company. As for Metis, she was thrilled that I was doing so well at the academy.

"Mona Tiffany is the headmistress now? No way! She was my physics teacher when I was, like, 16!" she exclaimed. "She's a great woman, isn't she?"

"She's been very helpful," I agreed.

"Ya know," Shika, the graceful Eblanese dancer put in, "I've sort of been considering dropping the traveling for a while and going to dance school. Actually, I think I want to teach."

"Really?"

"I love dancing. And I know there are other very talented people all over the world who love dancing too. I'd like to help them learn. It seems very fullfiling."

Shika was just barely younger than me; Chi and Yin, the twins, were behind only by a year or two. But since I had seen them, all three girls had grown taller, and we were all filling in nicely if not rapidly. We were all growing up, forming plans and hopes and dreams of our own. Edward wasn't the only one whose time with the troupe was drawing to a close. It seemed that Shika would be jumping ship soon as well to forge her own life somehwere. As for Chi and Yin—orhpans without real identification—the world was wide open and waiting for them whenever they were ready.

Metis, Andrea, and Roland—the adults—would remain pretty much the same. But the students they picked up over the years would roll in and out like the tide. The current tide was washing out, and it seemed to make even Andrea a little sad.

Edward and I arrived back at the school just 20 minutes before curfew, enough time to say goodnight and return to my room without getting penalized.

"It was good to see everyone again; I've missed you all so much," I said.

"They'll miss you too, you know. You've only been in our lives breifly, but Metis has a special place for you in her heart. She always will."

"So, I'll see you at the concert tomorrow night?"

"Of course," he agreed, kissing my hand. Of course, that wasn't enough; he pulled me close and kissed me again, longer this time than that morning.

"I love you, Anna."

"I love you too, Edward."

I watched him until he was gone before going back in the building. I felt so good; solid and real, savoring ever moment of reality, because reality was _great_!

As good as I felt though, I had some urgent business to attend to. I still needed to write to Mama about my new summer plans. Monique and Goza were already asleep when I came in, so I quietly sat at my desk and began writing a letter explaining how my evening had gone—and finally given permission to explain who Edward really was.

So my mother received quite a letter: firstly, her daughter was being courted by the crown prince of one of the most powerful nations in the world. Secondly, he had invited me to spend the summer with his family in their—wait for it—palace, and that I _really_ wanted to go, and that she and Daddy too were very coridaly invited to join me. Finally, _what would we do about Daddy?_

When I woke the next morning, I didn't really expect to find any correspondance from Mama. And yet there was her letter, waiting for me on my desk:

_I just can't believe that this boy has been a _prince_ all this time! And he shares your brother's name, no less! I, personally, count all these things as a good omen, but… I'm just not sure what to say about all this right now._

_As for his fmaily's invitation, I don't blame you for wanting to drop summer school. I know I certainly would! I know that your father and I will miss you, but I agree with the boy: you ought to go and meet his family. They are a king and a queen, and they've extended you a lavishly generous offer which few girls in hundreds of years can hope for. Graciously accept it; and I'm sure I don't have to remind you to mind your manners, but I will anyway. I _am_ your mother, after all, and it's what I do._

_Yes, it's not like I can just _leave_ your father here all alone. And someone has to cover for you; the two of you need all the time you can get to get ahead. I'll let your father know that your friends invited you to vacation with them, and that you've accepted. Oh, he'll be mad for a few days and probably threaten to pull you out of school and _make_ you spend time with your own family, but I'll handle him. _

I was dissapointed that Mama wouln't be coming, but I knew that she would meet Edward's family one day. Actually, I was surprised at how calm she sounded in her letter. But then, that was Mama. Cool and collected, even when she was alarmed.

The troupe's first concert for the city was that evening, and Goza and I were so excited we could barley stand it. Monique, however, almost didn't come. She crawled under her sheets and feined a bad stomach ache, but I could tell she was still a little miffed with Edward. Alright, she was a lot miffed with him; and I guess I didn't really blame her. Of course, being a white mage, Goza didn't buy it for a minute; but she got the hint that Monique didn't want to be bothered _or_ talk about anything, so she allowed our friend her privacy. I, on the other hand, couldn't bear the rift bewteen my best friend and my beloved.

"Monique, maybe you should just talk to him?" I suggested when Goza had gone ahead of me.

She scoffed. "One doesn't just walk up to a prince and scold him like a school child."

"I'm sure his teachers do all the time."

Monique sat up. "But he's my _prince_! I'm one of his subjects! I can't just—"

"Trust me, you can," I interupted. "Mo, he's really needed this time. He's been safe and well trained."

"Trained in what? Dancing like a monkey?"

"No, in people-skills. Mo, did you know that ruling a kingodm used to terrify him?"

"…It did?"

"Yeah. But being so close to common people with normal problems and nromal lives—people like us, like _you_—it made his see how much help he could be to people who are struggling and need help. It's not all about the music—it's about people. And if there's one thing I've learned by not knowing that he was a prince all along, it's that he's just a person, just like us. He has hopes and dreams and fears and wants of his own, Mo. Go talk to him. Tell him how you feel. He'll make it right."

"But how do I…?"

"I can make a few arrangements."

So Monique cautiously made a miraculous recovery and joined us for the concert.

Edward played a significantly bigger role this time than before, and he had graduated to a level where he didn't need to wear silly makeup to get attention. He and Roland played harp together, with Andrea on the mandolin, the twins on flue, and Metis on percussion, an Shika spinning and leaping to the music like a graceful wind. They were a joyful little band—they were a family of their own.

And then it occurred to me what bard magic really was. It wasn't just using the music to reach over long distances, or to beat back monsters. It was an ability to stir emotions with the pluck of a single string. Their magic was so much deeper than mine. I could manipulate the elements of Fire, Ice, and Thunder; but _they_ could manipulate the heart, mind, and the very soul. What a treasure.

At the intermission, I led Monique to the back of the caravan, where my friends were resting for the second act. Monique wouldn't come backstage with me; she was still mad and a nervous.

"Monique is still upset with you," I explained to Edward. "I think you should talk to her; she could really use it."

Edward agreed, hating to think that he had offened her so badly. He stepped out of the wagon, right in front of Monique, and gave her a friendly smile. Suddenly sheepish—maybe even a little ashamed of being angry now that he was standing there—she bowed her head and wouldn't look up.

"I'll leave you two alone," I told them and walked away. I rejoined Goza, who had been looking for us.

"Where's Mo?"

"Oh, she and Guilbert had a small snag to work out."

"So she _does_ remember him? What happened?"

"Just an old childhood tiff. No big deal. They'll be fine; trust me."

Goza accepted it and let it be. Sure enough, Monique came back just before the second act began, and she looked much better than before.

"Get everything worked out?" I asked.

"Yes. Definitely," she said. "Thanks, Anna. Thanks for making me listen."

My friends only came with me to that first concert. But I went by myself to all four of them. Naturally, on the night of the finale, Edward played the calling song he had written for me. Now that Daddy wasn't there hoovering over me, I let the song reel me in, dragging me closer to the stage. When Edward saw me coming, he grinned at me and the call suddenly felt stronger; the affect was working exactly the way he had made it to, and he was overjoyed beyond words. I stopped just short of leaping up on the stage beside him, instead leaning against it and just standing there, watching him play. He looked back at me, holding me with those blue eyes. He didn't need to look at the strings; he knew the song by heart. When the song ended, it didn't feel like the affect wore off.

"You know that song is for you," he reminded, offering me his hand.

I didn't care if it made a spectacle—they already were a spectacle, so surely they wouldn't care. Edward pulled me up on the stage, in front of the entire crowd.

"That will _always_ be your song, and no one else's," he continued.

"No," I corrected. "_Yours_ and mine. Always?"

"Yes. Always. I promise."

Once again, there was nothing around us. No crowd to think us silly, no lights casting shadows, no stage to put us on the spot—it was just the two of us, in a moment all to ourselves. This time, we came together at the same time. He didn't kiss me and I didn't kiss him. This time, we kissed _each other._

Somewhere in the distance, I could hear the crowd eating it up; but I didn't pay it much attention to their noise. What really caught our attention was the applause coming from backstage.

"Way to go, big brother!" Shika called from behind the curtain.

Best night of my life. Ever. At least, the best night of my life ever so far.

The following morning the troupe packed up and hauled out. The sadness of parting ways was happily dampened by the knowledge that we would meet again in a few short months.

At least, Edward and I would. They were traveling back together through Kaipo and Damcyan, but Edward would leave them there, never to rejoin them on the road. We all would often meet when they came through town, but seldom in the same place all together. It was enough to make Shika start to tear up when I came to see them off.

"You take care of my big brother," she commanded tearfully, giving me a hug. "I've never had a big brother before, and Edward's been a great one, so don't you let anything happen to him."

"Don't worry, Shika. I won't let you down. I'll keep him in one piece, I promise."

After they departed, it was just a matter of studying and passing tests with flying colors until school ended for the summer. The only hitch came a few days after the troupe left, in the form of an angry letter from home. Headmistress Tiffany delivered it to me herself, chocking back hysterical laughter. It was Daddy again, as Mama had warned, threatening to pull me out of school if I didn't drop my summer plans and come striaght home, and then we would _possibly_ discuss my return in the fall.

"Your mother isn't going to stand for that, is she," Tiffany guessed.

"Absolutely not," I agreed, tearing the letter into little pieces, incinerating them with a quick burst of Fire, and brushing the ashes into the air, where they dissipated like cigar smoke.

Obviously, I passed my first year at Sparrow's Wing. The end of the semester was thrilling—there was a whirlwind of packing to be done by all the girls returning home for the summer. Monique and Goza, however, were not part of the packing proccess; they were staying for summer school, and were sadened that I was not. And while I couldn't tell Goza exactly where I was going, Monique knew what my plans were and, now that she wasn't mad at Edward anymore, she was thrilled for me.

"You're going to love it in Damcyan," she assured me. "The von Moir family is a kind and generous one. You'll feel right at home with them, I'm sure… I just still can't believe that my prince is dating you!"

"I know," I agreed. "I can't quite get my own head around it."

"I've heard that some nobles can be pretty nasty, though. I don't doubt that King Nicholas and Queen Marthe will protect you, but watch yourself all the same."

A few days later, with my things packed in my trunk, I waited in the northern courtyard for Edward to arrive, as he said he would. My guard was down, so I didn't notice the sound of the rock hurtling through the air until it colided sharply with my head. The pain was enough to jerk tears into my eyes and send lights bursting over my sight. Behind me, I heard an unpleasantly familiar voice laughing harshly at me.

"Not so tough now, eh, Faaxhae?"

Crap. It was Mel, who I hadn't really seen since winter.

"What do you want?" I demanded, rubbing the sore spot on the back of my head. I felt a little blood, but it didn't seem too bad; and my vision was beginning to clear.

"I just wanted one more good swing at you before you left for the summer. Where are you off to? Running on home to mommy and daddy?"

"Actually," I said proudly, on the cusp of letting my secret loose, "I'm spending the summer with my boyfriend and his family."

"Ooh, kinky," she jeered. "I thought you weren't trash, like the rest of us."

"It's not like that."

"Of course it's not. You're too impatient to resist for too long, and I saw you on stage when they were in town. You'll be in his pants before you even realize what you're doing."

And now I was mad.

"School's out, Mel. We're the city's problem now. Let's settle this like Reds."

"My pleasure."

Static sparkled around her fingertips as she called forth Thundara. Even if she was a dingbat and a whore, she knew how to handle a spell. I chose to counter with one of my favorite spells: Firaga, a step up from Fira, and sure beat Mel before she got started. Even before I met Edward, the Fire spells were my favorites. And the crystal that his family was in charge of guarding only endeared the spells more to me.

Of course, Firaga also takes longer to chant than Thundara. Mel finished her spell quickly and hurtled the lightning bolt at my chest. Luckily, I was a fast chanter and finished Firaga just in time to block it. The flames flew out of my palm faster than the lightning and I threw them up in front of me, crossing my hands at the wrists. The flames colided with one another, spiraling into a tornado-like vortex and sucking up the lightning before it could touch me.

The heat was intense, especially in the hot May sun. Eager to get the flames away from my unguarded face and to finish this battle before Edward arrived, I released the spinning inferno and it spun across the yard and hit Mel dead on; with the power of both spells, it knocked her over on the stone floor, unconsious.

Anna, 8. Mel, 0. (We'd had a lot of confrontations that first semester.)

Still panting from the heat and the enegry I had lost in casting and controlling my spell, I leaned back against the cool stone wall to catch my breath. A few minutes later, Edward finally arrived driving a strange looking vehicle that I had never seen before.

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's a hoovercraft," he answered, climbing out to greet me. "It's the best way to travel over the shoals and the desert. It was kind of a coming home gift from my parents."

"You're driving us all the way to Damcyan in it?"

"It's only a day away; the only faster way is by airship."

"That's not a bad trip."

"Hey, your face is covered in soot," he realized, brushing his fingers against my face; his fingertips came away blackened. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, uh, nothing," I insisted, picking up my trunk and walking quickly to the hoovercraft. While I put trunk down in the back seat, Edward pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wet it with a canteen.

"I thought you said you were too mature to attack people in broad daylight with Fire spells," he recalled, gently wiping my face and hands with the wet cloth.

"I am. But it was just Mel again, and she deserved it. I'd been meaning to blast her with a Fire spell, but I had forgotten until just now…"

Edward sighed, exasperated, but he smiled. "Oh, Anna, I do love you so much." For emphasis, he kissed my clean forehead. "Just be careful who you decide to charbroil when we get to the palace, okay? You're good at making friends, but you're just as good at making enemies; and you can make a lot of either where we're going. If someone hurt you, what would I do? My magic doesn't knock people down, after all."

"You're right. I'll be more careful, I promise. Mel was just my freebee; I won't do that again… Probably…"

"And _that_ is what makes you so attractive," he commented, opening the passenger door for me. "Of course, there are other things about you that are attractive," he corrected quickly. "It's just—"

"I get it, Edward. I know what you mean," I assured him, climbing into the craft.

"I could list them all for you, if you'd like," he offered playfully, closing the door and walking to the driver's side. "It'll probably take the whole trip—or maybe the whole summer—but I will."

"That's not necessary. I get it."

"I'm just making sure."

Just as he began pulling levers and the craft began powering back up, a teacher walked by and noticed Mel, still unconscious on the courtyard floor. But before she could notice me, the craft took off down the road and _that_ problem was behind me for the summer.

At last, we were on our first adventure together.

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Author's Notes…

I can't believe that this chapter is SO action packed in only 6 pages, or that I finished it in only 2 hours! 0.0 Maybe I really AM the best writter in the world! XD


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

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"How will we get through Mist?" I asked Edward as we sped along the Baronian countryside in his wonderful little craft.

"What do you mean?" he replied.

"When my family and I passed through Mist, the elder got angry at us. They don't like people intruding. And then there's the cave; no one can get past the eidolon to Mist in the first place."

"There's a pass through the mountains around the village that we take," Edward explained. "Usually, hoovercrafts are no good on mountainous terrain. But this is low enough to the ground and smooth enough for us to go over. I've never seen Mist, myself. What's it like?"

"It's different. Their magic is unlike my own; it's more... intense? I don't know. All I can do is manipulate the elements. They can summon eidolons like one might summon a loyal dog. The make me feel kind of puny."

"You have great power, Anna, make no mistake. It's strong and useful, and you've worked hard to hone it. I'm sure they really aren't that different from you at all."

His words were comforting. I had always been slightly intimidated by the elusive Summoners, but in an awed and respected way. Deep down, I was also a tad jealous of them and their unique abilities—abilities which seemed granted only through blood, which meant that I would never be able to learn their skills. Of course, he wasn't one to talk; he also held a unique and wonderful power, himself.

For most of the ride, we moved too fast to be able to hear each other, so we sped along in silence, enjoying the landscape and the warm late May sun on our faces. The hovercraft was like no other device I had ever seen. It hovered about two feet off the ground, and was propelled by spinning propellers. The dash board had several different levers and buttons which controlled every aspect of the craft's movement: speed, direction, height—and Edward knew exactly what each one did. He drove expertly over the land, cutting across vast fields and meadows rather than taking the winding roads towards the mountains. We reached the mountains in a fraction of the time it had taken my parents and I to walk from there to the city.

Daddy would _not_ have approved on so many levels.

Edward's mountain pass was diminutive and easy to miss. Only clever or seasoned travelers could have found it. Nonetheless, it was wide enough for the craft to pass through, so we proceeded through. It was like a long hallway with towering walls of gray stone. Far above us the sky was still visible as a narrow strip of blue. We were totally invisible to the world—no one in Baron, Mist or Kaipo ever would have known how close we were to all of them; however, I felt a creeping feeling that the eidolon knew where we were.

The pass emerged half an hour later into the open expanse that was the desert of Kaipo—we could just faintly make out the tiny town at its center, shimmering like a mirage, quaint as ever.

"I feel sort of bad," I mentioned. "Mama and Daddy are so close, and we're just driving right by..."

"We can stop and say hello, if you'd like," Edward offered.

"Daddy would never let me go. If I step back in that house, I'll never get back out."

Edward was sorry for me, that was obvious. He had no way of understanding my dilemma, having the wonderful, caring parents that he did. We continued on to the near northeast, toward the shoals that lined the desert's coast. As well as hovering over land, the craft could hover over shallow water such as these shoals or reefs. Anything deeper than 20 feet, Edward had explained, the craft could not hover over. The hovering capabilities would go out and the craft would crash into the water.

These shoals snaked along the coast of not only the Kaipo desert, but the Dancyani desert as well—this was the path that Edward had always traveled with his companions, and decidedly the faster and safer way to go. The waterway was deep and dark, its tunnels sprawling for miles and miles underground. And, of course, not to mention the monsters and the threat of fungal or bacterial infection like the one that had nearly destroyed Kaipo so many years before.

Unlike the waterway, the shoals were a straight, direct path in full sunlight; the only negative aspect was the sun's glaring on the water, which was only slightly worse than the desert heat, and therefore bearable for us.

I had never seen the sea before then. It was exhilarating, and exciting in a very strange way. The idea of the blue void, reaching far beyond my sight to parts and depths unknown filled me with a sudden longing to know what the other end was like. The sea was full of opportunity, hope, and unearthly desire. It was also full of danger, which only made it more appealing. As we flew over the shoals, the shallow water cleared away in our wake, leaving a fine mist in the air, coating our skin and hair in sparkling, salty water droplets.

We cruised at the craft's top speed for several hours, passing the desert and then the mountain range that hid the waterway beneath it. Beyond these mountains lay our destination, the bigger and somehow warmer desert kingdom of Damcyan. After sailing along the coast for a long time, we turned off the shoals and made our way inland, deeper and deeper into the blazing hot desert.

I had lived in an oasis town all my life and thought I was used to desert heat, but this desert was harsh even for me. I had expected Edward to be more accustomed to it, but he hadn't actually lived in Damcyan for a long time and was still getting used to it himself. Once upon a time the heat hadn't bothered him much—he had been born in the palace that housed the fire crystal, after all. But those days were years ago, before he left for his travels.

"I have all the time to get used to it again now," he commented. "I'll be in this city for a long time from now on."

The city was a mass of gray stone buildings in the middle of the white-hot sand, and the castle towered above it all, much like the way Baron was built. But it stood out imposingly, almost severely. With nothing lively to compare it to or to soften it, the city—the castle especially—appeared serious and dour. Even at the distance, I could feel the crystal's energy radiating, the source of the unusually intense heat. Anyone else would have felt the strong elemental presence; but to my fine-tuned senses it was almost overwhelming. Edward obviously felt it as well—despite the sweat and the redness of his face, he kept shivering.

By now it was late afternoon, and the sun was beginning to fall rapidly; not rapidly enough to begin painting the sky, but enough to turn the light from harsh yellow to harsh gold. In the shadow of this invisible power, we approached the city's stone wall, veering around the wrong side to the far wall.

"We'll take the back entrance," Edward explained. "It goes straight to the royal stables, and I have the key to the gate. We'll draw less attention that way, than if we went all the way through the city."

"Do the people know that you've left again?"

"I don't think so. Now that I'm actually staying here, I need to break this habit of leaving and not letting my people know about it, shouldn't I?"

"That might be a good idea."

As if conspiring with us, the sun cast the wall's ever-lengthening shadow over us as we drove along the back wall to the gate. The gate was a small dent in the looming wall, a simple pair of beautifully forged wrought iron doors hiding a stone courtyard behind it. Edward brought the craft to a stop beside the gate, put it in park and climbed out, pulling a small silver key out of his pocket. He wordlessly unlocked the gate and pushed the doors open, and then climbed back in the craft.

He eased the craft inside the doors quietly, not to attract any attention until he absolutely had to. As it was, the courtyard was empty; however, there was a wide door-less opening nearby and we could clearly hear horses whinnying and a boy's voice attempting to soothe them. Edward drove the craft into the stable, finally alerting someone to his return—the 12 or 13-year-old stable boy on duty.

"_Dauphin_! You've returned!" the boy exclaimed, dropping what he was doing to rush to the aid of his prince. "You came back sooner than we expected; their majesties will be pleased."

"I know, Jacques," Edward agreed, climbing out of the craft once again. Though I'm sure that he didn't like it, I climbed out on my own, a little clumsily because of my skirt.

"Is this the _belle dame _you told us about?" Jacques asked, looking at me with suddenly starry eyes.

"Indeed she is. This is Anna Faraxhae, my girlfriend," Edward introduced. I smiled and shook his hand warmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jacques," I said. The boy kissed my hand politely, though a little too earnestly. Jacques would never stop idolizing me after that. He would be one of my closer friends, and also one of the most loyal and attentive.

Jacques offered to help Edward with the hovercraft, of course, but Edward insisted on doing it himself: the craft was his responsibility, and he was determined that no one handle it but himself. Aside from horses, a small fleet of hovercrafts was also stored in the stable; the hovercrafts outnumbered the horses two to one. While the horses were beautiful and masterfully trained, the crafts were faster and more reliable in the desert and still beautiful. The crafts were painted various bright, firry colors such as red, orange and golden. Edward's craft was a singular shade of orange-yellow, not like any of the others.

As much as Jacques wished that we could stay and keep him company while he worked, Edward and I had to take our leave of the stables; his mother and father were waiting for us—mostly for me. So while our leaving irked Jacques, Edward and I left the stables and proceeded into the castle.

Castles were another thing that intimidated me. They were big, filled with strangers, and probably didn't come with maps in the way that cities or my school did. They were an easy way to get lost and end up in trouble. However, Castle Damcyan was significantly smaller than Castle Baron, its corridors few and its spaces wide and well-ventilated. Plus, I had Edward to guide me through it—as long as I was with him, I would never be lost.

The way the castle was built was straight forward and clever. The dark gray stone of which it and the rest of the city was constructed soaked up all the heat of the sun outside; but it could not penetrate the stones or the tight mortar holding them in place, so the inside was fairly cool. Every hallway began and ended with a tall, narrow veranda; when the wind blew into the halls, it became an air corridor, the air often moving fast enough to blow my hair into my face.

These and other feats of engineering were more than necessary in the castle—the beating sun was harsh enough, but the Fire crystal also posed a problem. Particularly near the castle's center, where it was hidden, maintaining a comfortable temperature was a tricky and delicate balance that these people had either mastered or simply learned to quietly endure.

As we hurried through the various air corridors and up a few flights of stairs, the halls were mostly empty, say for a few servants who stopped to greet Edward and ask if I was "the one", the talented and angelic mage girl he had spoken of so often. With every, "Yes, she is," Edward beamed like a star with pride, and I turned another shade redder.

The throne room was at the very center of the castle, and where we were expecting to meet the king and queen. As we ascended a final staircase to it, we were met by an aging woman. She was dressed in plain but richly embroidered fabric, and her long, dark brown hair in a single plaited braid down her back—the only thing that really marked her as any kind of royalty was the golden circlet around her head. When she saw us, the look on her face change from bored anticipation to bright, unrelenting joy and she ran forward, enveloping Edward in a warm, welcoming hug.

Thus was my first impression of Marthe, queen of Damcyan, who had stayed to wait for us while the rest of her family had gone on to their supper.

"We honestly didn't expect you until late tonight," she said to her son.

"We drove straight through, mother," he explained. "We came as quickly as we could."

The queen nodded understandingly and then turned to me. "So, this must be Anna. My dear, you are just as lovely as he said you were!"

I blushed again—usually I didn't mind flattery, but so few girls ever get complimented like that by a queen. For want of another reaction, I began to curtsey, but she stopped me.

"None of that, dear," she insisted, laying her hands on my shoulders and drawing me upright again. "You're part of our family now; there's no need for formalities here."

Any time I was with queen Marthe, it wasn't like being with a queen. It was like being with a woman. She was very much like my own mother—understanding, supportive, willing to help me. And, above all, she was highly informal. I always appreciated that about her.

"The two of you must be tired after your journey," she guessed. "Supper was served about half an hour ago, but there are places reserved for all of us. Shall we go, or would you rather rest first?"

Edward looked at me for an answer.

"Um... I am pretty hungry."

"To the dining room, then?" he said, offering me his arm.

"To the dining room," I agreed, feeling like I was pretty good at this castle business so far.

"Mother, who will we find in at supper?" Edward asked as we walked.

"Your father, of course, who is dying to meet this lovely young lady," Marthe answered. "Your cousins Patrice and Xavier also, and their parents."

"Xavier? When did he get here?"

"Just hours ago."

"He wasn't due for another week."

"I know. He's trying to prove something."

"That might mean trouble..."

I was well aware that I would not be the only one moving into the palace for the summer. Summer was a break from studies for royal and noble children all over the world, a chance for families to come together the way they should be. I was also aware that of all of Edward's jealous cousins, Xavier von Moir was one of the most jealous, oldest and craftiest of them all.

Attacking Xavier with any kind of spell was one of the first things Edward had specifically forbidden me from doing.

Like the other family rooms, the dining room was very tall and wide, secure from the heat, and a veranda on one side of the room let the breeze in. Some of the space was a little wasted—all the room really contained was a large table with many chairs, a hutch filled with bottles of fine liqueur, and a piano in one corner. Not all of the chairs were filled; three were waiting for us, just as Marthe had said, and placed near the head of the table.

Two seats sat at the head; one was reserved for Marthe, and the other was occupied by Nicolas, the very handsome king—Edward looked exactly like his father, blonde-haired and green-eyed, fair skinned and very elegant. The one thing that Edward and his father did not share was that the king appeared to be wearing—of all things—black lipstick.

To his immediate left sat a young man, several years older than Edward, who's lips were also painted black—Edward's cousin, Xavier. He was decidedly darker in color: his skin was golden-brown from the sun, and his hair was so dark brown that I thought at first it was black, the same as his eyes. Even his clothes were severe, intense black.

Beside Xavier sat his sister, Patrice, who was my age. She looked nothing like her brother, much more like Edward and his father—pale skin, feathery blonde hair, and clear, sparkling blue eyes. She sat silent and ridged yet graceful, the way a good little princess should. As beautiful as she was, I got the distinct feeling that she was every bit as cunning and cruel as her brother.

Their parents were silent, and they spent most of that evening appraising me critically. Their mother was of another family in the Damcyani nobility, but their father was one of Nicolas' younger brothers, the second eldest, in fact, and the successor to the throne should anything happen to the king before Edward was old enough to take it himself.

Despite the stares of his brother's family, King Nicolas stood up at once when we entered the room, prompting the rest of them to follow suit, thought it peeved them terribly.

"Early! What a pleasant surprise," he greeted and strode across the room to us; Marthe came and met him with another hug and a quick, affectionate kiss which her sister-in-law seemed to disapprove of.

"Marthe, this is undignified," the woman scolded stoically.

"A woman is allowed to kiss her husband, is she not, Amande?" Marthe retorted. Lady Amande rolled her eyes and said no more.

Nicolas released his wife and took a moment to look at me. "Edward, this is the girl? You said she was a mage, not an angel. She's beautiful!" he exclaimed. Before I could even try to bow to the king, he took my hand, kissed it, and then bowed to _me_.

"_Mademoiselle_, welcome to my kingdom. It is both an honor and a pleasure to have you here."

My voice failed me, and my face must have looked sunburned by the flattery. "...Thank you," I finally managed to whisper.

"Father, you'll kill her," Edward warned, shooing the king back a few feet.

"My apologies," Nicolas said with a grin. "Come, sit down, all of you. You must be very hungry, yes?"

Edward and I found ourselves conveniently seated right across from Xavier and Patrice, both of them perpetually angry at Edward and unimpressed with me.

"So, Anna," Patrice asked, "where did you say you were from?"

"I did not say," I answered.

"...Then perhaps you will tell us?" she said, trying not to grit her teeth or call me stupid like I knew she wanted to.

"I grew up to the south, in Kaipo," I answered. "Though my parents moved there from Mysidia before I was born," I explained.

"That's a painful move," Xavier noted.

"I suppose. They won't tell me why they left."

"I've never been to Kaipo," Patrice mentioned. "But I've heard that it's a tiny little place—very quaint. However did Edward manage to find you?"

"In his travels with the clown school no doubt," Xavier suggested.

Edward and I both scowled at him for the insult, and he scowled back.

"Actually, I did," Edward informed. "We stopped there for the first time last year; Anna and her family were very kind to us when we came; they continued their hospitality this year when we came through."

"How fascinating," Lady Amande said dryly, her eyes still glued to my body. "Such little standing in the world. So unlike us. It's just a perfect little fairy tale come true, is it not?"

"Darling, please," her husband interrupted. "She has been welcomed into our home, and we must show her some amount of respect, despite her humble origins."

Sir Felix, Edward's uncle, was never shy about gritting his teeth or calling a situation as he saw it. His son and daughter were smooth and subtle with their insults, merely hinting at their meaning or hiding it beneath a metaphor. But not Felix: he didn't like me and my nonexistent social status, and he wasn't going to hide it. His brother, the king, may welcome me, but he certainly did not, and neither did his snooty, conniving family.

Part of me wanted to throw a Fire spell at them all, shout at them that my family had been very well respected in Mysidia, (Which wasn't actually as true as I thought.) and that our living in an oasis town that was barely on the map was of our own choosing. But none of it would matter. I was the scum of the earth to these people, and nothing I said or did was ever going to change that.

However, it still didn't bother as much as it probably should have. I didn't care about them: I was in Damcyan to spend my summer with my beloved Edward, and _nothing_ was going to ruin that for either of us.

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Author's Notes...

Now coming to you LIVE from my brand new Acer netbook! Dude, this thing is _tiny_—it ROX! XD

Only one chapter in Damcyan tops; promise.


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